


Between the Knuckles

by Judeyjude



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Black Harry Potter, Fluff and Angst, Godfather Sirius Black, Grief/Mourning, Harry is a Moomy's boy, Hell hath no fury like a Remus scorned, Japanese Sirius, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, OCD!Remus, Pining Sirius Black, Remus raising Harry, Slow Burn, and I mean sloooooooow, beware of Slow burn, demiromantic sirius, demisexual/graysexual remus, enemies-ish is on Remus' side, first 10k is straight up angst idek but Harry is good fluff relief, friends to almost lovers to enemies-ish to friends to lovers, overprotective parent remus, people may be called poo-poo heads, questions/mysteries will be answered i swear, there is fluff i swear, warning: potty-talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 19:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 74,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11168298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judeyjude/pseuds/Judeyjude
Summary: “Hooz that?” Harry unwrapped an arm from Remus' neck and pointed to their doorstep.Sirius pushed his tangled hair behind an ear and stood up, seeing that he had their attention. Harry burrowed his face into Remus’ neck and squeezed his legs tighter together, pushing out the little air Remus still had left in his lungs. For a second, Remus considered to keep on walking forward and never come back.------Remus has two pasts, the one he never fully grieved and the one in which his heart never healed from. Today, he has finally found peace and happiness in raising his toddler godson, Harry. That is until Sirius Black shows up on his doorstep after a five-year long disappearance. Now, Remus has to navigate the complicated life of parenting and desperately fight to keep the past in the past. But Sirius, the only person intricately woven in both parts of Remus' past, is determined to stay. How long can Remus go before it all catches up to him?Can two people with a bond so infinitely severed learn how to love again?** On hiatus until 2019 **





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this idea slammed into me and I can't stop myself from writing it. the chapters will be fairly short (1,500-3,000 words) but there will be a lot of them and hopefully I'll be updating quicker then
> 
> if you are triggered by mourning the deaths of loved ones, be careful reading this. it won't be a /huge/ plot point but there will be some flashbacks of Remus right after James and Lily's deaths, i'll give a heads up when that happens : )
> 
> ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ here we go to the angst ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

_November 16th, 2014_

 

 “Harry,” Remus wiped the sweat off his eyebrow, “love, I’m going to see who’s at the door. You stay right there, alright?”

 

Remus set down the knife he was using to cut carrots. Harry sat cross-legged in front of the television, his mouth hanging slightly open. Of course, Cars was playing. McQueen, still asleep, just rolled out the back of Mack’s ramp and onto the highway.

 

“Harry,” he prompted again.

 

Harry nodded his head without tearing his gaze away from the red racecar. Reluctantly, Remus left the kitchen and the playroom attached to it, always anxious about not having Harry in sight. Whoever was on the other side of the front door knocked again in a hard, fast-paced beat.

 

“I’m coming,” Remus called. He jogged the short distance to the door and peered through the peephole, seeing nothing. After waiting a moment, he began unlocking the four locks, deciding to check outside. Pushing open the door, but not stepping out, he said, “Hello?”

 

Quick footsteps sounded and a figure emerged around the house’s corner.

 

“Remus?”

 

Remus’ stomach dropped to his feet, leaving a cold hollow feeling in its place. The chill seeped into everywhere, devouring him, breaking through layers of thick skin. 

 

“Remus,” Sirius pleaded, “oh my god, please tell me it’s not true—”

 

Sirius’ sentence was interrupted by sharp, squealing laughter from inside the house. Those beautiful giggles snapped Remus back into his body, igniting deep-seeded anger. _How, how_ dare _he, after all this time, after—after—_

 

“Get,” Remus spoke in a low snarl, “the fuck out of here.” 

 

He slammed the door shut and firmly twisted each lock.

 

“Hoo-z it, Moomy?”

 

Remus spun on his heel, coming to face great big green eyes blinking up at him curiously.

 

“No one, love,” Remus said, bending down to pick Harry up, settling him on his hip. “It’s someone I don’t know.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the Great Molly Weasley.

_November 24th, 2014_

 

Remus rubbed a hand over his face. He closed his eyes and released a slow exhale before opening them and looking Molly Weasley in the eye. She narrowed her eyes at his feeble smile. 

 

“Now,” she waved a wooden spoon at him, “will you tell me why you’ve kidnapped Harry for the past week?”

 

“I didn’t kidnap him, Molly. He’s my,” Remus voice died out. He stared down into his tea cup, the steam rising from the surface.

 

Molly finished the sentence he can never say. “Son.”

 

Remus swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. The last week had accustomed him to this guilty feeling he thought he had (mostly) moved past. The persistent nightmares returned as well and each night he ended up sitting in Harry’s bedroom, watching the rise and fall of his little chest. 

 

“Ron cried every day.”

 

Remus looked away from his tea, finding Harry chattering away to Ron, playing with dinosaur toys. Their matching grins pulled a soft laugh from Remus. “Harry had a huge tantrum yesterday about not seeing him.”

 

Molly stirred whatever concoction she was experimenting today. She waited for Remus to speak. Sighing, he admitted, “Sirius came to the house last week.”

 

The wooden spoon clattered onto the kitchen counter. Molly hissed from touching the pot. “What? Sirius- _Sirius_? Sirius Disappears-For-Five-Years, Sirius?”

 

“The one and only.” Remus sipped his tea.

 

Pursing her lips, Molly turned the stove off and wiped her hands on a dish towel. She beckoned him and said, “Come with me.”

 

Leaving his tea, Remus followed her to where Harry and Ron played. Molly asked them if they wanted to go outside and play with the other children. The boys’ heads snapped up at once. The only reason they were playing inside was because Remus wanted Harry close. Ron scrambled to his feet immediately, running to the sliding glass door and disappearing into the yard. Harry lifted his arms up and Remus bent down, scooping him up. He pretended to be unaware to Molly’s disapproving gaze. 

 

“Moomy o-kay?”

 

Remus ran a hand through Harry’s dark curls. “Yeah, Moomy’s okay. I’m going to be right here if you need me. You go play with Ron.”

 

Harry threw his arms around Remus’ neck, pressing a kiss to Remus’ cheek with a loud MWAH! The second his feet returned to the ground, Harry ran outside and flung himself onto the leg of Emmeline—Molly’s helper—along with Ron. Remus watched them for a few seconds before joining Molly on the couch.

 

“Well,” Molly heaved in a breath, “that son of a bitch is lucky I wasn’t there. I would’ve unleashed my wrath on him.”

 

“Oh, and this is something to be feared? The great wrath of sweet Molly Weasley?”

 

“If you don’t watch your tone, you’ll find out for yourself how horrible I can be.” Molly winked and Remus chuckled. “Lord, I can’t believe it. You’re sure it was him?”

 

“Trust me, there’s no way I wouldn’t recognize Sirius Black. I opened that door and—I. I,” Remus cut himself off. He shrugged. “It all hit me at once.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

Remus shook his head. “I shut the door in his face. I grabbed Harry and snuck him out the backyard and to the park. When I came back, he was gone.”

 

Remus wished he brought his tea, just to have something to fiddle with. He settled on picking the loose thread on his shirt. His mind whispered _Sirius Black, Sirius Black, Sirius_ Black, _Sirius sirius sirius,_ like a song stuck in his head. 

 

“He didn’t come back?”

 

“No.”

 

“You spent the whole week cooped in your house, didn’t you?” Remus hung his head. “Oh, Remus. You can’t fall down that path again.”

 

Remus clenched and unclenched his fists. “I know,” he said. “I know. I don’t know what I expect but you know how my mind imagines the most awful things. Harry’s safety is the most important thing. If I have to take a week off of work, I’ll do it.”

 

Molly touched Remus’ jiggling knee. “Harry is always safe here.”

 

“He found our house. He found out where we live and came all the way down here. That’s not just an ‘I was in the neighborhood’. If he can do that, he can find you, find other places we go to.” Terror crept into Remus’ voice. “What if I dropped Harry off here and Sirius came while I was at work?”

 

“Remus Lupin,” Molly snapped. “If you think for one goddamn second I would ever let that bastard near Harry. Over my dead body. The _nerve_ of that man! After everything, after all you’ve been through.” Molly shook her head angrily. “The hell you went through alone.”

 

She kept her hand on his knee and Remus placed his hand over hers, squeezing hard. “I can’t lose him. He’s all I have left.”

 

“You’re not going to. Nobody can take that little boy from you.”

 

Remus smiled sadly. Outside, Ron picked flowers and stuck them in Harry’s curls.

 

 

_ November 13th, 2011 Three Years Ago _

 

_Remus clutched Harry in his arms. Ever since the accident, he was incapable of holding Harry with one arm. The mere thought of holding Harry like he used to, with only one arm and while multitasking, brought him close to physically barfing. He shuffled sideways on the doorstep and jammed his hip into the doorbell. The echoing ring made Harry whimper. Anything seemed to make him cry these days, especially sounds._

 

_“It’s okay, Harry,” Remus said, bouncing his hip. He listened—it seemed fairly quiet for a children’s daycare. A door slam startled Harry into a snuffling cry and Remus began bouncing his hip more frantically._

 

_The front door opened and Remus stepped back._

 

_“Hello, there,” a round woman with startling orange hair said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”_

 

_“Uh, yes,” Remus shifted Harry, “is this, are you the daycare? I’m here to see if, uh, Harry can, if you have space to take him?”_

 

_“Oh. I’m sorry dear, I don’t work on the weekend.”_

 

_“It’s the weekend?”_

 

_That couldn’t be right, Remus swore it was Wednesday, wasn’t it? Harry had his doctor’s appointment on Tuesday and—that was yesterday, right? The more Remus focused, the harder it became to distinguish one day from another, all of it clumping into one indistinguishable gray lump._

 

_“Yes, it’s Sunday. You have to call to make an appointment, too.”_

 

_Didn’t he call? He specifically remembered staring at the computer screen and writing down the phone number on a yellow sticky note. How could he have forgotten? This wasn’t him, this wasn’t Remus, Remus always prepared five steps ahead and kept things running smoothly. His throat prickled and he fought to keep his face from crumpling. Harry’s little sniffs increased like he sensed Remus’ building distress._

 

_“Oh, dear. Why don’t you two come in.” The woman stepped aside and allowed Remus into the house.His diaper bag thunked against the doorway as he passed through. She closed the door softly and reached her arms out. “Here, let me see him.”_

 

_“No.” Remus shook his head and held onto Harry tighter. “I—I’ve got him, it’s alright.”_

 

_“Please, I’m great with children. I have seven of my own and the youngest is an infant too.”_

 

_Seven children! Remus definitely would never hand Harry over then. She probably was careless after all those babies, so used to being a mother that she probably didn’t think about it. That was where the real danger was—not thinking. Remus thought. He thought all the time, already he had determined seven fatal injuries that could happen right now. A discarded stuffed animal, for example. He could step on that and slip, dropping to the ground with Harry underneath him. Remus_ felt _his heart squeeze at the thought and the dizziness of anxiety spilled inside him. Frantically, he tried to push the image out, the imagined feel of squishing Harry beneath him, blood, screaming, the sound of breaking. Oh, god, he wasn’t built for this and he wasn’t good enough for Harry, he was going to get Harry killed and it was going to be all his fault._

 

_Harry started crying. “Sh-shhh, Harry,” Remus stuttered. “It’s alright, everything’s okay.” As usual, the words meant nothing to the little infant. Remus asked the woman if she could please unzip the diaper bag and pull out a pacifier._

 

_Upon seeing the pacifier, Harry made grabby hands and stuffed it into his mouth. Remus continued to hear the wailing inside his head but Harry only whimpered around his pacifier, his cheeks stained with old tears. Molly invited him to the living room and Remus gathered himself together, feeling better after sitting on a couch. Sitting decreased fatality probabilities. Harry leaned against Remus’ chest and closed his eyes, sucking on his pacifier. Grabby hands reappeared and Remus raised his right thumb. Harry wrapped one small hand around it, content._

 

_“New dad?”_

 

_Remus shook his head and cleared his throat. “He’s not mine but, uh, I’m all he’s got now.”_

 

_“I’m so sorry.”_

 

_Remus tipped his head in acknowledgment. People’s mouths had sandpapered those words away the past month, turning sorry into meaningless dust. “I’m Remus, by the way.”_

 

_“Molly Weasley.” Molly had soft eyes and a soft voice. Remus thought maybe she could handle Harry’s safety. Maybe. “This is Harry? How old is he?”_

 

_“A year old since August.” God, that was hardly long ago. How ridiculously happy they had been._

 

_“A year, really? He looks hardly older than six months. He’s tiny.”_

 

_Frowning, Remus asked, “Is he? I think he’s so small but I thought that’s just how all babies are. Is that a bad thing?”_

 

_“No, that’s perfectly alright,” Molly soothed. “He’s only smaller than most.” She stared at Remus’ panicked expression and softly said, “You really have no clue what you’re doing, do you?”_

 

_Remus swallowed. All these days he took one breath after another, telling himself he knew what he was doing, and that was what he told everyone. The words were in his mouth, sitting heavy on his tongue:_ I know what I’m doing _. Remus hardly spoke about his problems, they had always had to yank it out of him, and he grew even quieter after what happened two years prior. And it didn’t matter how quiet he was now—there was nobody to be quiet to. Molly’s eyes were so warm, though, and she felt so maternal and her hair and expectant silences were too familiar and Remus was so, so terribly exhausted._

 

_Different words rolled out of his mouth._

 

_“I was there when he was born and I saw him all the time, practically a third parent. I thought that meant I would know what to do and how to do it but—I don’t. I’m trying to read books on it but he’s always crying or he’s hungry.”_

 

_“Or his diaper needs to be changed,” Molly added._

 

_“Yes! Exactly! It’s like I have to figure everything out right as it’s happening and it’s all just so new. I’m trying to grieve, you know,” Molly nodded sympathetically as if she did know, “it’s only been a few weeks. I’m so scared I’m going to mess everything up. It’s all on me, I have no one, and,” Remus took a shuddering breath, “I can’t be with him all the time because I’ll need a better job and so I’m trying to look for daycares and I—god, Molly, he doesn’t like formula. Why won’t he drink his formula?”_

 

_Molly placed her hand on Remus’ knee, close to Harry’s little foot. “I don’t usually take in children under two years but I have a son and daughter around his age. I think Harry would fit right in without a fuss for me. We can stop worrying about that now and the formula is an easy enough problem, yeah? If he’s a year, you can start giving him regular cow milk and he might like that more._

 

_“Do you have anything to do today? My husband has the kids at his parents’ house for the day and it would be nice to have some company.”_

 

_Remus didn’t know if she looked more sad or amused when he took out his phone to audio record any advice she could give._

 

_The next Thursday, after Remus spent all Wednesday checking the safety of the daycare, Remus brought Harry over. Every time Remus tried to leave, Harry cried. Molly physically pushed Remus out the door after thirty minutes. She reassured him that every child cries the first few days they’re dropped off but Remus still stubbornly thought this circumstance was different than others’. He desperately needed the interview scheduled in an hour, however, and so he got into his car._

 

_Remus ended up pulling over only two blocks later, turning the ignition off and pressing his forehead into the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn. Sobs wracked through his body, like a physical ripping of his flesh starting at his throat and tearing down through his heart._

 

_How could someone live with this? How was it possible for this much pain to fit inside one body?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius tries again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIT I FORGOT TO MENTION
> 
> ***** if you have self-harm triggers, read the end note please (it's super small and no one self-harms or anything or references past self-harm)

_December 5th, 2014_

 

“I lub taking the bus.”

 

“Really? I would never have guessed.” 

 

Being only a fifteen-minute walk home from the Weasley’s, taking the bus was unnecessary. Remus always tucked a few bills in his pocket, however, and boarded the bus for one stop with Harry. A total three minutes that he inexplicably adored. 

 

“Yup.” Harry swung their intertwined hands. “Lub it.”

 

At the start of their block, Harry pulled them to a stop. “Weady?”

 

Remus let go of Harry’s hand and checked to make sure his wallet, phone, and keys were tucked securely in his pocket. “Green light.”

 

“Fwog!” Harry shouted and crouched down to the sidewalk, his hands in between his legs. “Wibbit. Wibbit.”

 

“Ribbit.” Remus copied Harry’s squat and hopped two spaces forward. “Ribbit ribbit.”

 

“Now dog!”

 

Harry squealed when Remus crawled to him and stuck out his tongue, pretending to lick Harry. They did cat, eagle, worm, and shark next.

 

“Now your turn,” Harry said, his arms stretched over his head to make a pointed fin.

 

Remus hummed. “I wonder what I shall pick…”

 

“Monkey,” Harry whispered, “monkey!”

 

“I can’t decide.” Remus tapped his chin. “I was going to say monkey, but I know how much you hate that.”

 

“I lub Monkey!”

 

“No,” Remus shook his head, “you hate it.”

 

Harry stamped his foot in outrage. “I do! I do lub it!”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes! Yes!”

 

“Positive?”

 

“YES!”

 

Remus crossed his arms. “I don’t know. You don’t seem like a monkey.”

 

“Look.” Harry scratched his armpits and skipped. “Oo! Oo!”

 

Remus faked a dramatic gasp. “Oh, my.”

 

“What?” Harry stopped his monkey impression, looking genuinely worried.

 

“You are just—the most monkiest monkey I’ve ever seen!” Remus crouched down. “Are you sure you’re not a real monkey?” He poked Harry’s side, earning a giggle. “Where did my Harry go?”

 

Harry beamed. “He’s gone! I a real monkey now.”

 

“Oh, finally. I’ve been trying to get rid of Harry for years. Okay, monkey, climb aboard.” Harry went behind Remus and jumped onto his back. His arms squeezed Remus’ neck tight while Remus straightened from his crouch and began walking. 

 

“I da baby monkey and you da Mommy monkey.” 

 

“Why can’t I be the baby monkey?”

 

“You too big.”

 

Remus snorted. They reached the house.

 

“Hooz that?” Harry unwrapped an arm and pointed to their doorstep. 

 

Sirius pushed his tangled hair behind an ear and stood up, seeing that he had their attention. Harry burrowed his face into Remus’ neck and squeezed his legs tighter together, pushing out the little air Remus still had left in his lungs. For a second, Remus considered to keep on walking forward and never come back. Yelling in front of Harry wasn’t an option and leaving Harry in the house alone for more than a minute wasn’t an option either. 

 

Remus walked to Sirius, doing some quick thinking.

 

“Remus.”

 

Remus came to a stop, a few feet away. He stared above Sirius’ shoulder and kept his tone neutral. “Please move.”

 

“No, I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

 

Harry made a small sound into Remus’ neck. Sirius’ classic stubborn voice was what Harry categorized as “yelling”.

 

“I’m letting you in the house,” Remus said, getting his keys out and unlocking the door. “Don’t say anything. Shoes off.”

 

Remus couldn’t unlace his shoes with Harry on his back so he stepped through the doorway wearing them. He carried Harry into the kitchen and sat him on the counter, next to the sink. Sirius walked in on white socks and sat on the couch in the playroom, watching them. Remus made sure that he was facing Sirius’ direction while Harry had his back to him.

 

“I don’t want him in da house,” Harry said, rubbing his hands together with soap. He distrusted all strangers and if he got over that, he was shyer than either of his parents ever had been.

 

“You’re going to play in your room and you won’t even have to see him.” Remus pushed the sink head to Harry and turned the water on.

 

“You play with me?”

 

“After I talk to the man, I promise.” He handed Harry a paper towel and then washed his own hands.

 

Harry insisted on being carried again and he hid his face in Remus’ neck when they passed Sirius in the playroom. Remus helped take out toys from the bins in Harry’s closet and then helped take off his light-up shoes.

 

“You’ll be safe?”

 

Harry pushed his firetruck on the carpet. “It Moomy and me time.”

 

“I know, love. We always have Moomy and me time after Mrs.Weasley’s.” Harry nodded his head. “The sooner I talk to this man, the sooner we can spend time together.”

 

Putting a Lego man on the firetruck ladder, Harry considered this. “O-kay.”

 

“Keep your door open and shout if you need me. I love you.”

 

“Lub you.”

 

Remus walked the twenty feet to the play room, channeling his emergency parenting mode. Emergency meant no time for emotions. Sirius looked up from his clasped hands and moved over for Remus. Cringing internally, Remus sat down right where Sirius had been. These pants were going into the wash tonight. He’d wash the cushion too.

 

“Moomy, it time yet?” Harry shouted from his room.

 

“No, love,” Remus called back.

 

Sirius said, “Moomy?”

 

Remus pulled a toy dragon out of a cushion crack and placed it on the coffee table. He said, “Moony.”

 

“Oh.”

 

The dragon’s face looked far too friendly for such a menacing creature. Then again, he never bought Harry scary toys. Remus said, “You have five minutes and you have to keep your voice down.”

 

Sirius balked. “Five minutes?”

 

“I told you to go away,” Remus picked up crumbs and put them on the armrest, “and the only reason you’re in my house is because I’m not going to yell in front of him.”

 

“You really—”

 

“Moomy?” Harry shouted. “It time?”

 

Sirius huffed. Calmly, Remus told Harry not yet.

 

“Tell me everything. What happened? How long? Everything, anything,” Sirius rushed out, probably from fear that Harry would interrupt. Remus wished he would.

 

“What are you even talking about?”

 

Sirius demanded, “Remus, will you stop cleaning and _look_ at me?”

 

Remus had organized the crumbs in a line from smallest to largest. He looked up at Sirius’ face, avoiding his eyes. His skin looked more weathered, wrinkles Remus had never seen. It hurt like a freight train barreling into his lungs. Or like Prince Eric speared Remus’ heart with a ships’ bow. Little Mermaid’s ending was surprisingly more dark than he had remembered—Harry slept in Remus’ bed for a few days after. Not that Sirius would understand any of this, no, he was too busy getting _weathered_ in the sun.

 

Sirius tilted his head in a futile attempt to catch Remus’ unfocused gaze. “Frank’s the only one who would talk to me and he won’t tell me anything.”

 

Speaking of Frank, Remus needed a written reminder to send them a New Year’s card this year.

 

“MOOMY?”

 

Sirius startled at the rise in volume of Harry’s voice. Remus usually scolded Harry for yelling in the house but in the current situation, he let it pass. As long as there was no urgency, pain, or fear in his voice, Harry could scream all he wanted.

 

“Yes, love?”

 

“HUNGY.”

 

“Okay. One second.” Remus stood up and walked to the fridge. Sirius trailed behind him, stopping at the counter. Absently, Remus kept track of all the items and furniture Sirius touched to wash later, including himself. Sirius being able to look at him made Remus want to soak in scalding water and shower afterward in even hotter water. If only he could do the same to his brain. 

 

“When’s your wife coming home?”

 

Remus nearly sliced his finger off while cutting grapes in half. “My _what_?”

 

“Girlfriend? Husband? Partner?”

 

Remus gaped at Sirius. “What the—you have no right to ask me those questions. You know what,” Remus waved the knife around, “it’s been more than five minutes. I want you to leave.”

 

“No! You haven’t answered anything! Remus, please, I have to drive back after this and I can’t do this alone,” his voice cracked, both raged and desperate, “I can’t. Please, let me explain.” 

 

Remus pointed the knife at Sirius. “Leave. Now. I won’t answer anything anyway so just go right on and fuck off. You’re just some random stranger in my house.”

 

“You can’t mean that,” Sirius' voice dropped. “After what’s happened, we’re all we’ve got left.”

 

Remus suppressed a hysterical laugh. _How rich._ He breathed, feeling the anger coil and uncoil in his throat, reaching out, trying to push out his lips and then curling back in. _Don’t yell, think of Harry, don’t yell, think of Harry._ Remus walked around the counter to Sirius, the knife still raised and pointing.

 

“Remus,” Sirius said, stepping back.

 

“Get out.”

 

Sirius’ eyes were wide. “Put that down.”

 

Remus raised it higher.

 

Sirius’ gaze flickered from the knife to Remus’ face and his cheek twitched, somehow much more frightened by him than the lethal object. He raised his hands and stepped backward, pausing and then turning to walk to the door. Remus stood in place, tempted to chase him out but wanting to stay closer to Harry. When Sirius looked over his shoulder, Remus said, “Don’t come back.”

 

Sirius picked up his shoes and opened the door. He shut it softly, not slamming it like Remus expected. Left, unlike Remus expected.

 

Remus set the knife down and his mind ran through detached flashes to pick it back up and twist it into his gut. Great. Like an anthill squished, ants running in every direction, his mind threw out thought and image after thought and image. Too many possibilities and fears and urges and memories— _a smile so big you could count each tooth, directed at him, only for him_ —that deserved to be burned and intrusive and intrusive and his mind needed to shut up shut up shut _up._

 

Remus focused: grapes. Grapes. Bend your knees, move your feet. 

 

Bringing the grape plate into Harry’s bedroom, Remus found a smile. Harry lied flat on his back, pushing his stomach out to make a mountain for his Lego men to climb.

 

Remus rapped his knuckles on the door. “Grapes for monkey boy.”

 

Harry’s stomach deflated but he didn’t look up. “Not hungy.”

 

“Harry, are you okay? It’s Moomy and me time now.”

 

“Yeah?” The Legos fell to their deaths as Harry sat up.

 

“Mhm. And you’re not hungry,” Remus stressed, “at all?”

 

“No.”

 

Remus sighed. He knew when Harry told the truth and there was no long nose for this boy. He probably asked for food just to disrupt him and Sirius. More and more, this was happening, small acts of protest. Everyone always told Remus how Harry was such an easy baby, easy toddler, and Remus felt he got through the supposed terrible twos well, though Harry had other issues than disobedience or fussiness. Maybe it was catching up to him. Right now, it was still in the amusing phase.

 

Remus set the grapes on Harry’s old changing table and sat on the ground. Harry crawled over, climbing into Remus’ lap.

 

“No more man?”

 

Remus hoped so. “Not for now.”

 

“You weared shoes on car-pt.” Harry tugged at Remus’ shoelaces.

 

“Oh, no. How should I be punished?”

 

Harry went quiet in thought. He decided, “No dessert.”

 

“No dessert.” Remus gasped. “Not even chocolate?”

 

“Not even cho-co-late.”

 

“Now that is just cruel and unusual punishment, mister.” He regretted it the second the words left his mouth. He hadn’t noticed how much he said that phrase until Harry began associating it with certain things, such as watching, for the hundredth time—

 

“Cars!” Harry jumped out of Remus’ lap and started running around in a circle. “Speed, I am speed! Vroom vroom!”

 

“This is a violation of the Eight Amendment,” Remus commented. Harry made puttering car sounds and ran in an eight loop. “Alright, fine. But Cars One, okay? I’m not watching Cars Two for at least two more months.”

 

Actually, the atrocity that was Cars Two might not be such a bad idea—if there was one thing that could distract Remus from Sirius, it would be that movie. 

 

Nah, Remus wouldn’t stoop that low.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***trigger: Remus has a string of obsessive/intrusive thoughts and the first one is to "twist [the knife] into his gut", that's all and it's not an intense thought, it's a neutral involuntary one and he sets the knife down and leaves
> 
> chapterly protip: do not put yourself through the suffering of cars 2
> 
> next chap will be posted on Thursday, which is coincidentally the day cars 3 is released


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a nightmare and a surprise visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dec 6th is the night/early morning right after the last chapter

_December 6th, 2014_

 

Remus fell off his bed onto all fours in his haste to get to the bathroom.

 

After puking his guts up, he laid his cheek on the toilet bowl, too shaken to care about the grossness. The lump rose in his throat again but he had nothing left to throw up and so he didn’t move, just coughed weakly.

 

He hated this. He—hated—this. This was all Sirius’ fault, this hadn’t happened in a year, at least. The nightmares disappeared over time, never completely, but Remus had been doing well. He thought he was behind the days of paralyzed sleep and dreams that left him vomiting. No, now Sirius brought it all back and Remus couldn’t do this, he couldn’t go through this again, he couldn’t be sitting on the cold ground in the darkness, dribbled bile on his cheek, feeling a thousand miles under the ground.

 

“O-kay?”

 

“Ow—” Remus clutched the spot where his head smashed into the sink from surprise. “Love, what are you doing out of bed?”

 

Harry whimpered.

 

Reaching blindly, Remus found a towel and rubbed his face clean. He carefully reached his hands out, making sure he didn’t hit Harry, and he stood up, finding the light switch. A blurry little boy stood in the bathroom doorway, holding a stuffed animal. Remus blinked through the sudden light and Harry became clearer, wild bed head and frightened face.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Harry whispered quietly, “Voice scawy.”

 

Remus turned the sink on, washed his acidic mouth out and then swallowed a mouthful of water. “There,” he said, clearing his throat. “That sound better?”

 

Harry ran forward and hugged Remus’ knees.

 

“Let’s get out of the bathroom, sound good? It’s smelly in here.”

 

“You sick.”

 

“Yeah, I got sick.” Remus reached over and flushed the toilet. With a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder, he guided them out into his room. “Did you hear me? Is that what woke you?”

 

Harry nodded his head and Remus resisted the urge to pick him up. He added Harry waking up to the sound of vomiting to the list of reasons why he loathed Sirius. “I’m sorry I woke you. My tummy wasn’t feeling well but now I’m better and everything’s okay. Let’s tuck you back in.”

 

“I get sick?”

 

“No. It’s not contagious.” Thank god. “You won’t catch it.”

 

Remus flicked on light switches as they walked through his room, down the hallway, and into Harry’s room. Harry, it seemed, must have raced to Remus’ bathroom as much as Remus had, not stopping to put on lights. Frowning, Remus thought about installing motion sensor lights. It wasn’t safe for Harry to run in the dark. What if he had banged his head into something and Remus didn’t know, too busy wallowing in pity on the toilet?

 

Harry climbed into his bed and Remus pulled the covers over him, pink and yellow polka dotted. Harry hugged his stuffed animal to his chest, a stuffed blue pegasus.

 

“Good night, Harry,” Remus kissed his forehead. “Sleep tight.”

 

“Night,” Harry mumbled back.

 

Remus returned to his room, turning the lights off, and dropped onto the bed like dead weight. Something tugged at his blanket before he even exhaled a breath. Holding in a groan, Remus turned his lamp on to see green eyes blinking at him. He brought Harry back to his room and tucked him in two more times and then gave up.

 

“Only tonight,” Remus said, “and you have to go to sleep, okay? No more getting out of bed.”

 

Harry bounced twice on Remus’ bed in response. By the time Remus had Harry calm and asleep, the clock read 4:00 a.m. He took a minute to go through his memory, checking to make sure he had done his nightly routine of locking all the doors three times and pulled all the curtains closed earlier that evening. He would feel better if he could go and redo all the locks but with Harry in his bed, Remus was too worried about him rolling off and hitting the floor— _thunk, crying, maybe knocked unconscious, brain damage?, hospital, roll over, thunk, unconscious, little Harry, crying, brain damage?._ With Harry’s bed, Remus had made sure it was nothing more than a foot off the ground, with a very cushiony carpet next to it. In contrast, Remus’ bed was a few feet off the ground, with only the hardwood floor as a pillow. No, he couldn’t go check the locks and leave Harry, way too dangerous. The baseball bat next to his bed comforted him a little.

 

Remus leaned his head back against the headboard and shuddered. The dream came back to him in bits, his stomach churning in response. In the past, he would have either curled up and cried or put on a movie until the sun peaked up. With Harry fast asleep next to him, neither were possible, but the warmth and love in Harry’s presence helped ground him. He probably would have ended up checking on Harry repeatedly, to see his breathing, anyway.

 

Remus’ throat hurt swallowing. The feeling was familiar and not. After the accident, he hardly slept and when he did, he ended up sitting by the toilet. It stayed like that for a year until it lessened, around the time he and Harry moved two years ago. To have it come back—it felt like life pulled the rug out from underneath him and kicked him at the same time. Being trapped inside the dream of _screaming_ and _glass_ and _help me_ and knowing it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, but not being able to wake up, feeling his body frozen in the real world while his mind stayed in the dream and _no please don’t leave me_ and why couldn’t he wake up wake up and _no I love you, stay, please_ and _it’s dark_ and _body parts shouldn’t be twisted like that_ and _keep your eyes open stay with me stay with me_ and why couldn’t he wake up—

 

Harry made a sound in his sleep, his foot kicking out and hitting Remus’ thigh. Rubbing his eyes, Remus tried to push the images out—this was what happened when Sirius Black dragged himself back into your life. Before he knocked on the door a few weeks ago, Remus slept soundly and his mind whirled in a quiet, manageable way. Now his mind slammed thoughts and images into him continuously if he didn’t actively fight it with a distraction.

 

If Sirius came to the door right now, Remus would knock him out. Selfish bastard, daring to show his face and ask Remus to tell him all the details, making him relive that pain. For what? Did he wait years, letting Remus move on, and then return to make sure Remus fell back into the darkness?

 

It was easier to focus on Sirius— _five years, five years, five years—_ than the dream. Remus needed to figure this problem out. That man wouldn’t control his life and drop by whenever he wanted. Remus didn't want to see him at all, he didn’t want to think about him ever, but he had other people to worry about than just himself and his feelings. He wouldn’t let Sirius touch Harry—Harry, such a sweet boy, didn’t deserve more loss and instability. If Remus knew one thing about Sirius, however, it was that he wouldn’t stop because he was told to. No, he only left on his own terms. Regardless of others.

 

Sirius, however, missed one important piece of information: Remus was not the same Remus of five years ago.

 

If Sirius wanted a battle, Remus would bring a war.

 

 

_December 11th, 2014_

 

The day went by fairly well, the new seating chart resolved all Percy and Oliver conflict. Thursday meant the school’s last hour was dedicated to art in Mr. Lupin’s room and Remus’ students scribbled away happily, occasionally running up to show him their work. Remus checked his phone, hiding it under his desk, and pulled up Molly’s contact. Seeing no emergency calls, he texted her the good news that Percy hadn't called anyone a blockhead and asked how many more days were there until summer vacation with five question marks.

 

“Mr. Lupin is using his phone!” said Lois at the same moment another student asked if she could go to the bathroom.

 

Remus held out the bathroom pass for the other student, who scurried to take it, while raising an eyebrow at Lois. “Lois is speaking without having raised his hand.”

 

Lois scowled with a flush and waved his hand up high.

 

“Yes, Mr. Flanz?”

 

“Mr. Lupin is using his phone!”

 

“No, I’m not. I’m talking to you.”

 

“But you _were_.”

 

The other students paused their drawing to watch. The boy next to Lois kicked his chair and told him to be quiet.

 

“Since I broke a rule, I can play music as an apology,” Remus offered.

 

There was a chorus of _yes!_ and Lois leaned back in his chair with a certain smugness.

 

“Let’s see, I have The Wheels on the Bus, Old MacDonald, Humpty Dumpty.” Remus pretended to scroll through his iTunes.

 

His class groaned.

 

“Mr. _Lupin_.”

 

“Tell Harry he has rotten taste.”

 

Remus smiled. Harry was actually obsessed with Regina Spektor songs for some reason, especially Fidelity. Well, he recently started preferring Two Birds.

 

“Okay, okay,” Remus said, raising his voice over his students chatting, “how about everyone writes down one song—that’s appropriate, I’m looking at you Marcus—on a sticky note and pass it down. I’ll make a class playlist and we can listen to it next Thursday.”

 

Cheers and pencil boxes snapping open filled the room. The student who went to the bathroom, Ashley, slipped back into the classroom and dropped the pass on Remus’ desk. If he hadn’t been concerned by Ashley’s rush to her desk, Remus never would have paid attention to what she told her deskmate.

 

“Someone’s dad has a motorcycle! Isn’t that cool? I saw it!”

 

The classroom’s window overlooked the playground but Remus’ head snapped to it as if he could see the parking lot and a leather clad figure. He checked the time, fifteen more minutes.

 

A small cough gained his attention. “Uh, Mr. Lupin? I have the, uh, post-it notes…”

 

“Thank you, Alex.” Alex smiled shyly. Remus whispered, “Why don’t you take a chocolate?”

 

“Really?”

 

“Go for it. Take two.”

 

Alex glanced around and hesitantly grabbed a small wrapped chocolate from the jar. He whispered thanks and ran back to his desk. Remus picked up the pink, blue, and yellow note pile and put it in his desk drawer, mindful to not miss one and have a student miss out on the playlist.

 

Glancing out the window again, he asked the class if everyone passed their notes to Alex. A few students came forward and he added those to the drawer. Leaning back in his chair, Remus ran a hand roughly through his hair. His gut told him Sirius waited outside for him but there was no need to get worked up if he wasn’t. Seven minutes left in the day and then he’d be out. Considering Lois, Remus didn’t think he would get away with packing his work up without all the students following suit with their backpacks.

 

“Alright, clean up time. Everyone is helping, so I hope I don’t see anyone opening their backpacks until we’re done. Crayons in pencil boxes, markers and colored pencils in the classroom’s bins.”

 

When the bell rang, the room was mostly tidy and his students rushed out the door. Lois nicked a chocolate and Remus rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He walked around the classroom once, picking up paper scraps, and slid the ungraded spelling tests into his satchel.

 

Remus picked up Fred and George from their first grade classrooms. They had been separated this year, though Remus had heard they were being even more of a menace in protest. They mostly ignored him until they were done filling each other in on what happened since lunch time, talking over each other. Next, they picked Percy up from the playground, where he played with Penelope, and walked together to Remus’ minivan. While Fred and George whispered suspiciously, Percy tried to goad Remus into telling him his grade on the spelling test.

 

“Woah!” the twins shouted at the same time.

 

Sirius leaned against his motorcycle and parents passing by giggled or glared. Remus tried hurrying the kids to the car, hoping to weave behind cars, hidden. Sirius zeroed in on them almost instantly and half-jogged toward them. A motorcycle suit adorned his body as if he cared for his safety now, instead of the casual clothes in his youth that would have torn instantly in a crash. Remus wrapped his arms— _wild black hair and a boyish face pouting, antiseptic hospital smell, dusty photo books—_ around all three boys, pushing them to go faster, he needed to get them in the car if he had to talk to Sirius.

 

“Everyone climb in, no Fred, Percy gets to sit in the front seat because he’s older, Percy make sure the twins stay in the car, can you do that?”

 

Percy pushed his chest out. “You can trust me, Mr. Lupin.”

 

“I’m going to talk to this man quickly and then we’ll go to your house, okay?”

 

“Can we get slurpees?” Fred stuck his head outside the door. George yelled in agreement from inside the car.

 

“Maybe. If you guys can sit in the car and be nice. Now close and lock the doors.”

 

Remus waited to hear the click of the car doors locking. Sirius stood a car over, watching them. Smoothing out the tension lining his face, Remus walked a few steps and came to a halt. He crossed his arms, looking at Sirius.

 

“Well, if you would talk to me, I wouldn’t have to track you down.” Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets. Dark circles underlined his eyes. Remus sort of hated that he knew by Sirius’ body language that he wasn’t doing well. Sirius remarked with faked nonchalance, “I thought you didn’t want children.”

 

“Things don’t always turn out the way you thought they would,” Remus said. Sirius ducked his head. “Those are my friends’ kids. I need to bring them to their mother’s and pick up Harry. So, if you don’t mind.”

 

“I’ll follow you home. I’m not leaving this time, Remus, you can’t keep running away. I need answers,” Sirius yanked his hair, “I need them and I won’t leave you alone until you talk to me.”

 

“You don’t get to talk to me about running away.”

 

“Remus, I—”

 

“No. I need to go. If you’re going to keep stalking me,” Sirius cringed, “then meet me at the park. Saturday. Noon.”

 

“I can’t on Sat—” Sirius caught Remus’ unimpressed look “—Saturday’s, uh, good. What park?”

 

“It’s five minutes from here. Figure it out.” Remus returned to his car without a second glance.

 

Fred and George sat, buckled in, with their best angelic faces. “Slurpees?”

 

Remus put the key in and took a moment before responding. “Alright, but we have to be quick, okay?”

 

Fred and George high-fived each other. Percy acted like he didn’t care, though Remus knew he’d try and sneak two packets of mint Mentos to the cashier. After another moment to compose himself— _dancing, a whispered happy birthday, joint headstones, sleep deprivation, waiting, happy birthday, a holiday forever tragic, dancing, baby crying, people crying, Remus not crying, joint headstones, dancing, a full moon—_ Remus pressed on the gas pedal.

 

Sirius hadn’t moved, catching Remus’ eye briefly as he pulled out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably post the next one on sun/mon
> 
>  
> 
> I forgot, you can find me on tumblr here [siriuslysarcasticremus](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/)  
> : )


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> raspberries love the sun

_December 12th, 2014_

 

“You sure you don’t want to sit in the cart?”

 

“Yes! I can walk!” Harry stamped his foot, a mannerism he had picked up passionately. 

 

Remus dragged his teeth over his lip. He knew most parents didn’t put their four-year-olds in the shopping cart seat but Harry was small enough that he still fit. Remus could guarantee Harry’s safety in the cart, not worrying about him running off or some kidnapper swooping in to grab him. But Harry’s determination for independence increased each day and Remus wanted to do his best to respect that.

 

“Okay, big boy. If you go running off somewhere where I can’t see you, you’ll get in _big_ trouble.”

 

Harry seemed to be vaguely listening, his eyes wide as he looked at all the shelves stacked with food. Remus didn’t often bring him along for grocery shopping because it wasn’t a pleasant experience for Harry. The bright lightning, all the strangers milling around and occasionally bumping into you, the sounds—too overwhelming for him. Remus had perfected the ideal time, a weekday in the late afternoon, for when it was more low-key in their town.

 

They wound their way through the aisles, Harry keeping up a steady stream of talking about his day and his thoughts.

 

“And, and Jimmy, uh, he said that Santa isn’t weal.”

 

“Of course he’s real.”

 

“Yaw, and Ron got mad and pushed him and Jimmy _cried._ So we hidded—”

 

“Hid,” Remus gently corrected.

 

“Hid. Um, oh, we hidded behind a bush ‘cos Ron felt bad. Oh, and I saw a worm! It was this big.” Harry moved his hands apart to show an impossible length for a worm.

 

“Wow, that’s big,” Remus said while grabbing a box of macaroni noodles in the shape of cartoon characters. 

 

“Yeah!”

 

A father pushing a child, probably around two-years-old, in his cart came near and Harry grew quiet, quickly grabbing onto Remus’ trousers and hiding behind him. He peeked out to stare at the toddler, who stared back. Remus disliked the awkward way young children openly stared with big, unwavering eyes in public but he shared an amused look with the father.

 

“Can you say hi, Colin? Wave hello?”

 

The toddler, Colin, did nothing for fifteen seconds and then raised a pudgy hand, opening and closing it in a way that could be considered a wave. The father ruffled Colin’s blond hair, smiling a little prouder than necessary. There was an expectant pause for Harry to respond, especially since he was older. Feeling overprotective, Remus considered picking him up and walking away. Instead, he waved and said hello to Colin for Harry. 

 

The father grinned and nodded his head toward Harry. “He’s very cute. He’s got your curls.”

 

“Oh,” Remus mumbled in surprise. It was a mixed bag of who assumed Harry was his son and who didn’t. “I’m his…legal guardian, not his father.” 

 

Harry pressed himself harder into Remus. Placing a comforting hand on Harry’s head, he hoped to communicate that they’d escape this interaction soon. 

 

“Well, you both are, uh, cute together.” The father looked flustered. Colin sucked on his thumb. “I’m single—parent! I meant I’m a single parent.”

 

Remus nodded his head, not knowing what to say to that. “Well, Harry and I have to grab some fruit before we go. We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

 

“Oh—right!” The father, with a crestfallen face, moved his cart so Remus could move past him. “I’m Jack, by the way. It was nice to meet you two and, uh, maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime?”

 

“Yeah, maybe. Have a nice day,” Remus said, giving a small smile as he passed by, guiding the cart with one hand, holding Harry’s hand with the other. He waited until they passed two aisles before he asked, “You okay, love?”

 

They arrived at the fruit and vegetable section and Harry wordlessly slipped out of Remus’ grasp, running a little ways ahead toward the strawberries. Remus clenched his teeth down on his tongue and only relaxed when he was next to Harry again.

 

“Why these ones wed and these black?”

 

“Maybe because these ones are really angry. What do you think?”

 

Harry’s tongue peeked out from the corner of his mouth. Remus would tell him raspberries and blackberries were different fruits later. 

 

“Da wed ones weally weally wike the sun, um, and swimming.”

 

“Just like you.”

 

“Yeah, and the black ones don’t but the wed ones weally wanted to go swimming and the black ones said no but the wed ones said pwease.”

 

Remus slyly started moving them toward the oranges. “Did they use the puppy face?”

 

After nodding solemnly, Harry looked up with his lower lip jutted out and eyes wide. Remus laughed, grabbing three oranges.

 

“And so black said okay and they went to the beach and they pwayed all day and had wots of fun! Thewe was a sea tuwtle. _But_ ,” Harry said, “they got sunbuwned.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

“So dat’s why the wed is wed but the black got _super_ sunburn. The sun fwied them.”

 

“Oh,” Remus said like the world’s greatest secret had been revealed. “Is that why they are in separate boxes? The blacks are upset with the reds?”

 

“Mhm.” They reached the cash register lines and Harry tugged on Remus’ shirt, pulling him toward the self-checkout, where they wouldn’t have to interact with a cashier. And, he’d get to scan the items—potentially rivaling bus rides for what was the most fun thing in the world. 

 

Remus set Harry down on a ledge, not made for sitting, on the self-check out station—a teenage employee glanced at them dubiously before looking away, indifferent and uncaring. Like this, Harry could reach the scanner, moving the item over it and handing it to Remus after the beep confirmation.

 

“No, I can do it,” Harry insisted, grumpiness creeping into his tone.

 

Remus bit his tongue, waiting patiently as Harry waved the string cheese package for another minute until, finally, the scanner recognized the barcode. The oranges couldn’t be scanned and Remus had to put their code in, much to Harry’s disappointment. After paying and transferring the grocery bags into the cart, Remus had his usual heart attack walking Harry through a parking lot, trying to steer the cart with one hand and hold onto Harry with the other. If only he could have one eye focused on the four-year-old and another looking everywhere for potential driving cars, including seeing through the back of his head.

 

Work had been taxing, his students restless and inattentive, Harry wanting to do things on his own was creeping past his ability to do so—a tantrum on the horizon—and Remus was tired as hell. But it was a Friday and Harry was singing _Have a howwy jowwy_ _Chwistmas_ along with the radio. 

 

Remus wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

 

—

 

With dinner, bath time, bedtime story, bedtime story round two, lock check, and second lock check done, Remus flopped facedown on his bed. Tomorrow being Saturday wasn’t any consolation. Long gone were the weekends of sleeping in. He looked forward to when Harry hit the teenage phase where the morning only started at ten or noon. Something vibrated on Remus’ bedside table and he moaned. Gathering together energy from god knows where, he grabbed his phone and typed in the passcode—0731.

 

(8:34) Molly: Never have 7 children

 

Remus stared blearily at the text for a whole two minutes before responding.

 

(8:37) Remus: Darn, there goes my hopes and dreams

 

Molly didn’t respond for another twelve minutes, dealing with whatever kid fiasco Remus assumed brought on the first text. He fell into a stupor by the time the next text came in.

 

(8:49) Molly: So, tomorrow?

 

His mind had completely blanked on tomorrow—meeting with Sirius in the park. He remembered seeing those shared Love Gives Me Hope posts on Facebook and wondered if a website existed for Hope for Legal Guardians With Disappearing Assholes Suddenly Reappearing. 

 

(9:02) Remus: I don’t know what to do

 

(9:02) Molly: You don’t have to go

 

(9:05) Remus: I do. I have to for Harry.

 

(9:06 ) Molly: Okay…

 

(9:06) Remus: What?

 

(9:06) Molly: I’m worried for you

 

Well, it didn’t matter who did and didn’t worry for him. He wasn’t the priority.

 

(9:10) Remus: I just want to be quick and get done. He obviously has no interest in Harry so I’m not going to rile him up and get him intent on staying longer. I just want to be done with him.

 

(9:10) Molly: Talk more at Sunday dinner?

 

(9:11) Remus: Of course. Good night, you old lady living in a shoe

 

Locking his screen, Remus set his phone down and thought about whether it was worth it or not to get up and put on pajamas. Maybe those little Christmas elves Harry kept asking about could come and change Remus’ clothes for him. Except that sounded incredibly creepy, now that he imagined elves taking off his pants. God, he really needed some sleep. His phone buzzed again and Emmeline’s name popped up on the screen. 

 

(9:16) Em: yo Molly said ur talking with that dude 2morrow, u ok?

 

(9:17) Remus: Ugh y is this the gossip vine

 

(9:17) Em: u kno its just cuz she looooves u

(9:18) Em: srsly tho whats up

 

(9:18) Remus: Idk kill me pls?

 

(9:18) Em: if ur going to scream pls invite me so I can watch w pcorn

(9:18) Em: I could nvr kill u cuz then my hopes and dreams of us getting back 2gether will be crushed :’/

 

(9:19) Remus: One day I’ll be man enough for u

 

(9:19) Em: ew

(9:20)Em: anyway go 2 sleep u grandpa I just want u to kno I’m ready w/ a machete, just txt me anytime babe & b safe, take care of urself!!!! whatever happens like what he did was still fucked up so dont think ur a baby or that ur overdramatic. but like be overdramatic bc u deserve it ;))) 

 

(9:22) Remus: <3 

 

(9:22) Em: lol ok all I get is a heart 

 

(9:22) Remus: <3 <3 

(9:23) Remus: Oh also some hot dad maybe hit on me at the grocery store, good night!

 

(9:23) Em: WTF REMUS U CANT DO THAT TO ME AND NOT RESPOND??!! deets!!! ur such an asshole oh my god

 

Smiling, Remus set his phone down, ignoring the vibrations, and cuddled his pillow, falling to sleep within less than a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next one will be up on Wed. and revelations will be made...  
> Chapterly protip: do not research sleep paralysis or else the sleep paralysis demon will visit you at night


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius' explanation doesn't go over the way he had planned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would post yesterday but this asshole cat attacked mine and I had to take him to the vet :/
> 
> Tw: there is a moderate amount of grieving pain about lost loved ones

 

_December 13th, 2014_

 

Pulling his coat tighter around himself, Remus walked to the bench Sirius sat at, right next to the playground. He grumbled at the sight. Does he want someone to call the police on them, two childless grown men watching a playground?

 

All morning, his mind had been playing _Remus, I—, Remus, I—, Remus, I—, Remus, I—_ in Sirius’ voice nonstop since he woke up, the words Sirius had started to say to him in the parking lot two days ago, all _pitying_ and _soft_. He tried everything to get it out but the harder he tried the louder and faster his mind repeated it. For Harry, Remus knew how to block the train wreck thoughts out from practice but with Sirius, it became more tormenting, making it difficult to keep snide inner dialogue to himself. _Remus, I—_

 

Sirius’ head whipped up so fast at Remus’ grumbling sounds that Remus thought he heard it crack. Rubbing his neck, Sirius laughed nervously and confessed, “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

 

After a beat, not making a move to sit, Remus said, “Yeah.”

 

A large breeze blew past them, ruffling leaves by their feet. The weather had finally caught up with the month, going from hot summery days straight into winter, skipping over autumn.

 

Remus had a beanie stuffed over his head—the cold made him irrationally agitated and gave him piercing headaches if his face felt cold. This situation already had his hackles raised and made him riled up, he didn’t need the extra irritation. Sirius’ ear tips were visibly red from the cold, his hair tucked behind them.

 

“You look creepy sitting here. I’m going to sit at that bench,” Remus said without indicating what bench he meant. At a brisk pace, he walked to the other side of the grassy field.

 

Sirius trailed a few steps behind him, struggling to match Remus’ long strides. When they got to a bench, Remus waited for Sirius to sit first and then sat the farthest distance from him as possible, laying his phone on his lap, screen up in case Arthur texted him about Harry. He checked again to make sure the sound was on. 

 

“How, uh, how is Hhh, uh, Hhh-ugo?”

 

“Wha—you mean _Harry_?”

 

Face twisted with bemusement, Sirius nodded.

 

Pushing down the burning outrage, Remus waited until an old couple passed by them, elbows hooked. Keeping his emotions in check, he asked in his Teacher voice, “What do you want, Sirius?”

 

It was easier to stare at Sirius’ tightly clasped hands than his face. _Shoving a boy into crashing waves, hands cupped around a toad, viscously kicking a mailbox, a name becoming a dirty curse no one dared to say anymore, carving constellations into tree trunks._ The skin around his nails looked pink and picked raw. 

 

“I don’t _want_ anything, Remus—I’m just trying. To. I just. Fuck, Remus, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

Harry was probably the only person in this world that could say that phrase and not bother Remus. Not that Sirius would understand that. He didn’t have to go through nearly a year of people giving him their condolences, making those words not worth a damn anymore.

 

Grappling with a thousand impulses, Remus squinted at dirty pink bubblegum a few feet away, stuck to the ground with a shoe’s imprint. He’d imagined this scenario more times than anyone could count and now that it was here, he wanted nothing to do with it. People always talked about how it was never too late for anything but it _was._ Everything had a time limit, an expiration. Shit happened and there would be no going back. And not a single apology from Sirius would fix the past, even if Remus wanted it to.

 

Which he didn’t.

 

“You said you talked to Frank,” Remus said. “Go to him.”

 

“You know how Frank is, he says it’s not his business, not his place to say. And no one else will talk to me.”

 

“And why have you chosen to harass and stalk me instead of them?”

 

“Because you’re different,” Sirius snapped. More calmly he said, “You’re the only one who can tell me. I need—Remus, I—can you at least look at me while I’m talking?”

 

The pink bubblegum offered Remus no sympathy. He repeated, “What do you want?”

 

“Tell me about it, about them, about it all. It can’t be true.”

 

“Is it being on paper not enough for you?” Remus scuffed his shoes against the ground. “What more details could you possibly want?”

 

“Remus, I,” Sirius cut himself off. He cleared his throat, a tick Remus knew meant he was about to spew some bullshit and wanted to delay admitting it. “Remus, I…I didn’t read them. The letters.” 

 

Remus didn’t know what flatlined first, his brain or his heart. He lifted his eyes to search Sirius’ face. “What?”

 

Sheepish didn’t look good on Sirius. Or maybe it did. Remus couldn’t decide because his entire body system shut down. 

 

Softly, Sirius said, “I didn’t read any of them.”

 

Remus’ lips parted.

 

A bird chirped.

 

At the playground, a mother screamed at her child.

 

Remus blinked.

 

Sirius’ fingers were white from squeezing them together so hard.

 

A shadow fell over them, a cloud passing by the sun, and then the light returned. 

 

Finally, Remus asked, again, dumbly, “What?”

 

“I…threw them all away. I didn’t know—anything. I just found out about it all.”

 

Remus stood up, his phone clattering to the ground.

 

“Re—”

 

Remus held up a hand, his ears ringing. Walking ten feet forward, he stopped and braced his hands on his knees. Closing his eyes, he tried to pull himself together.

 

Sirius tentatively repeated his name.

 

Raising his hand from his knee, he held it up in the direction of Sirius to communicate _shut up._ He breathed in and out through his nose. Eventually, he pulled out and began pacing.

 

Abruptly, he turned to Sirius. “You didn’t read the—that means you got them. You got every letter and you what?” He asked incredulously, “Just threw it away?”

 

Sirius nodded.

 

“Oh my god. Oh my _god._ ” Remus covered his face with his hands. “What the fuck. What _the_ fuck.”

 

“I mean, I wish I had kept them now, after knowing,” Sirius trailed off.

 

_You don’t deserve their words if you only want to read them now,_ Remus wanted to shout loud enough that his throat would be sore for days after. No, he wasn’t going to deal with this, he wasn’t going to let Sirius do this to him. He would not be sucked back down. 

 

Swallowing a thousand screams, Remus walked to the bench and grabbed his phone where it had fallen to the ground when he had stood up. Sitting down, he checked for emergency calls or texts. Ten minutes ago, Arthur sent a text saying Harry was doing great and wanted Remus to know he said hi and saw a dog.

 

“I get you’re mad but will you look at me and talk to me. You can be angry but don’t I at least deserve to hear everything?”

 

Remus typed out thanks and asked if Arthur could give him frequent updates. Not even he understood how angry he was, the depth to it too vast and complicated, fermented for five years, harboring the anger for the others now that they couldn't.

 

Sirius spoke again, sounding like it was through gritted teeth, “I’m sorry, okay? I’m fucking sorry, I would have come sooner—” Remus scoffed involuntarily “—if I knew, I would have! Do you really—did you actually think that little of me all this time? James is my best friend, I love Lily!” Sirius paused. Remus thought about how he used the wrong verb tense. “I’m mad at myself, too— _okay_? And these weeks have been killing me. I don’t know if you remember those first weeks after but it fucking _sucks._ It _sucks._ ”

 

Sirius’ fingers brushed Remus’ jaw, trying to grab his chin and make Remus’ face turn to him, and Remus jerked back, slapping it away. He jumped off the bench, taking a stumbled step backward. Sirius’ face, flushed from frustration, twisted and scrunched together in confusion.

 

His voice lacked the demanding tone from before as he pleaded, “Just tell me what I missed.” 

 

_Sirens. Mama’s not here, Harry, please, no, please stop saying Mama, please please. Shards of broken glass. Screeching. Pale faces. “Maybe we should have it closed casket, Mr. Lupin?”_

 

Remus, his heart pumping madly at the accusation that he didn’t remember what the first few weeks were like, bent down to pick up the, again, fallen phone—no texts. Pocketing it, he looked up into the sky, burning his retinas with the sun. He held his breath for as long as he could, burning his lungs, and then released the air slowly.

 

“October 31st, 2011. Crash. They’re all dead.” He moved his eyes to Sirius’, not quite seeing him past the dark spots the sun imprinted on his vision— _a neck arched back, barking laughter, drizzling rain_. His chest hurt as he inhaled. “There you go.”

 

“Halloween,” Sirius stated.

 

“Yeah,” Remus confirmed, detached.

 

Sirius pressed his lips together. Looked away. Looked back. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” He dropped his head into his hands, his long hair falling forward in a curtain around his face. It had grown six inches since Remus last knew him— _growling with a hair tie between chapped lips, his hair too short and falling out of a bun—_ and far messier.

 

Ignoring his stuttering heart— _a round boy, a round face, straw-colored hair, beer bottles empty, unanswered texts, bloody gurney—_ Remus checked his phone again, no texts. He scrolled through his photo app, pictures documenting nearly every second of Harry’s life, feeling short-lived relief at the toothy smiles. Arthur’s last text was twenty minutes ago. Remus sent him a question mark. _Remus, I—, Remus, I—_

 

Behind his hair curtain, Sirius demanded to know what else he missed.

 

Rubbing his temple beneath his beanie, Remus tried to ward off the awful headache forming. He sighed, unable to keep the exhaustion from his voice, “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Sirius.”

 

“I don’t know anything, fuck, Remus, I don’t know a single fucking thing. I missed it all.” Sirius jerked up, emerging from his hair, glaring with red eyes. “Just tell me—anything.”

 

“You missed everything.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Everything.”

 

“I want to know. Tell me!”

 

“Sirius. Are we—are you really going to make me do this?”

 

“Yes.” Sirius bitterly added, “Then you can go back to your family and forget me.”

 

Remus bristled. “I’m not some emotionless Wikipedia page that you can bully your way into reading whatever you want, Sirius,” he snapped, standing up, pocketing his phone. Sirius broke his gaze, the beginnings of shame on his face. “You chose not to read those letters,” god, Remus couldn’t even _begin_ to think about that, “and I have no obligations to you. It’s been three years since it happened.”

 

“Don’t you think they would have wanted us to at least try?” Sirius implored, standing as well.

 

“Don’t you dare do that. Don’t you—dare—try and use them as a tool to get what you want.”

 

Sirius took a step forward. “It’s true and you know it.”

 

“No,” Remus stepped back, “I don’t.” _All I know is that James kept writing for months even when everyone else had stopped. Every fucking day after the mail came with no response he’d shut down. And—Lily needed you and Peter got lost in the debris after—_ Remus shook his head, taking another step back. “Go away, Sirius.” 

 

He walked, transitioning into a jog as he heard Sirius call after him. It wasn’t until he was in the car and two blocks away that he pulled over and caught his breath. He attempted to drown out his thoughts by putting the radio on to a blaring volume.

 

“—er didja come from, where didja go,”

 

 

_ May 29th, 2010 Four and a Half Years Ago _

 

_The speakers began blaring Cotton Eyed Joe and Remus laughed to himself in unsurprised shock as he moved through the crowd, trying to escape before James could find him. Hearing a familiar yelp, Remus gathered Peter had not been so lucky. Remus plopped down into a chair at a table deserted with champagne glasses, half-eaten food, and discarded things from the giftbags—a plastic mini deer._

 

_“I’m married to that brat,” Lily said as she came from behind Remus, pulling a chair that screeched against the dance floor, and sat next to him. Her radiant smile stayed on James’ form, his wild geeky dancing—Peter cohered into doing some sort of chicken dance next to him—before she turned to Remus. “How’s my maid of honor doing?”_

 

_“Good,” he answered honestly. “I’m happy to see him having a good time.”_

 

_Lily glanced at James again, her expression softening. “Me too.” Her smile became wry. “I caught him mailing another letter.”_

 

_“I’m pretty sure he’s writing one every day.”_

 

_After a few seconds, Lily announced, “I’d kick his ass if he showed up.”_

 

_Remus fought the urge to glance toward the entrance like James had done all evening. “No, you wouldn’t.”_

 

_“And I’d be pissed that I couldn’t,” she huffed angrily. Remus laughed and she glared at him before joining in a little. He was in too good of a mood to be brought down. He felt floaty on champagne bubbles. He wouldn’t let it get to him today._

 

_Lily grabbed Remus’ hand and gave it a tight squeeze, her other hand resting on her swollen belly. Remus had been in the store with her when she called Marlene and told her to design her a dress with a crop top that showed off her “fat pregnant belly” for everyone to see in front of the woman who had just implied they wouldn’t want Lily’s guests to know she was getting married only because she was knocked up._

 

_“You think this was the right choice?” Lily rubbed her exposed stomach._

 

_Remus squeezed her hand back. “I don’t know. But,” he said, “we’ve had a lot of death and I think it would be nice to have the opposite for a change.”_

 

_Lily hummed thoughtfully but before she had a chance to respond, James slid across the dance floor on his knees, dragging both of them back onto the dance floor for the conga._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can take italics and em dashes from my cold dead hands
> 
> there will be fluff I swear
> 
> (I'll post on sat/sun)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of winter break

_December 22nd, 2014_

 

“Oof,” Remus groaned from the sudden weight on his stomach, pulling him out of his dream.

 

“It Chwistmas yet?”

 

Remus’ brain slugged along, finding difficulty in transferring the words from his ears into his brain to be processed. “Oh,” he said. God, what day was it? Was it Christmas? “Sorry love, not yet.”

 

He squished his chin down into his chest, blinking down at the pouting face of Harry, who draped himself across Remus’ stomach, inconveniently over his semi-full bladder.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it’s not the twenty-fifth. There are still three more days.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Santa Claus.”

 

Harry scowled, looking strikingly similar to a face Remus, James, and Peter became _very_ familiar with during Lily’s eighth month of pregnancy. The place in his heart that used to ache something dreadful when Harry looked like his parents had changed into a good hurt, like a stomach cramping from laughing too long. As much as he loved seeing Lily or James in Harry, it brought him a certain brand of anxiety heavily laced with guilt. He never wanted to put a pressure on Harry to live up to them or be like them. Remus worked carefully to be mindful that Harry was his own person. Harry was Harry and nobody else and that was perfectly okay.

 

The scowling toddler made a _harrumph_ grumble, still caught up on Christmas. They were having a big feast at the Weasley’s and Harry had been eagerly counting down the days for all the pies and cookies and treats Molly baked for the holiday. 

 

Speaking of food, Remus’ stomach gurgled. He asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”

 

“Ron.”

 

“Mmm, nutritious. Think I can have a bite of him too? An arm or a leg?”

 

“No,” Harry scolded. “You can’t eat people!”

 

“Why not? You look so tasty.” Remus slid his hands under Harry’s armpits, hefting him up and tossing him lightly off to the bed space next to him. Harry squealed as Remus leaned over and began tickling him. “Shall I cook you up or eat you now?”

 

“N-no! No eat me, Moomy!”

 

Pausing his tickling, Remus lifted up Harry’s dinosaur pajama shirt, pretending to go in for a bite but blowing a raspberry on Harry’s stomach at the last moment, sending Harry into peals of laughter. It was a classic favorite of his ever since he was a baby.

 

“Time for some real food now,” Remus said, sitting up and patting Harry’s belly. “I’ll text and see if you can play with Ron after breakfast, how’s that sound?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Remus pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek and then scooped him up, carrying him side-piggyback to the kitchen. 

 

—

 

“Hi, Arthur,” Remus said. Molly’s husband was lying on the Weasley's cement driveway and Ginny and Luna were tracing his body outline with chalk. The two girls looked up and he and Harry waved to them. They had matching pixie haircuts.

 

“Remus!” Arthur exclaimed from the ground. “Great that you’re stopping by, actually, I need your opinion on a new idea I have for my book.”

 

“Great.” Remus grinned. Arthur was a history buff and had been working on a book on ancient cultures for the past few years. Outside of that, he worked at a big museum in the nearby city. Remus had been an English major in college but his minor was in history, giving him just enough knowledge to grasp the time periods Arthur studied. The idea of adult conversation sent him into a brilliant mood, he sorely missed academics. “I’m gonna pop in and chat with Mols for a bit.”

 

Arthur lifted his arm to give a thumbs up and Harry began walking to the front door, pulling Remus along. Within a fast fifteen minutes, Remus said hi to the six other Weasley children, stopped George from skidding into a wall, helped Ron and Harry find the box of Play-Doh, anxiously hovered over Harry secretly until he felt calm enough to leave them be, tested Percy on his multiplication table, tasted Molly’s newest jam, and caught and released a Daddy-longlegs spider into the backyard for Charlie.

 

“I have no idea how you do this,” Remus grunted, dropping onto the couch and wiping sweat of his brow. 

 

Molly shrugged. “You’re better with kids than you think you are.”

 

Remus stared at her sardonically. 

 

“Oh, stop it,” she smacked his shoulder, “you are! You’ve grown a lot since you turned up on my doorstep.”

 

“That’s not saying much,” Remus said, with a half-assed eye roll. He lowered his voice, “Anyway, how are you doing on presents?”

 

Remus admired Molly’s Christmas strategy, planning two months ahead and scouring Ebay for the perfect present at the right price. He never had someone to talk comfortably about lower class issues—he’d been friends with James since diapers and then Sirius and Peter by eleven-years-old. All of them were well off, more than well off, and he’d spent all middle school and high school with them at a posh boarding school, being one of the rare few on scholarship. His friends had tried to be sensitive about money but it was like raking leaves on a sidewalk. Sure, you had good intentions to tidy up but the horrible nail-on-chalkboard sound the rake made scratching on cement overshadowed everything. Horribly cringe-y, as Remus learned yesterday with a wailing Harry.

 

Thank god for Molly, the expert for low budget parenting. Remus sure as hell didn’t know how expensive raising a child would be, not that he ever had wondered that before. It was a blessing to have someone who understood. Plus, it was fun to complain about it with someone without being embarrassed or ashamed.

 

“Fine,” Molly said. “I’m more worried about the lunch-dinner and cooking everything in time.”

 

“If you need help, I can always try.”

 

Molly patted Remus’ knee, delicately saying, “Thank you, dear, but no thank you.”

 

“I’m not that awful,” Remus protested. “Harry loves my cooking.”

 

“Remus, I’ve seen Harry happily eat a clump of dirt before.”

 

Remus grimaced. He’d spent more time than he’d care to admit researching how harmful consuming dirt was the night after he did that. “Fine,” he sniffed. “It’s your loss then.”

 

Molly chuckled. They chatted aimlessly, trading gossip about their work. Apparently Monica, little Alan from daycare’s mother, was remarrying for the fourth time. Remus spent a good five minutes complaining about his coworker who had turned passive-aggressive ever since he discovered Remus was bi. 

 

“I don’t even know how he found out,” he groaned.

 

“I warned you not to get involved with Ken.” Molly drank her lemonade while Remus huffed.

 

“We went on two dates! That’s hardly getting involved.”

 

“Yes, but he used to work at the school with you. Of course that would spread.”

 

Remus sighed. “Speaking of rumors, has Arthur’s aunt forgiven you for the Thanksgiving of 2012 yet?”

 

“No and honestly, I hope she never does. No skin off my back.” Remus snickered. “You want to talk about Sirius?”

 

“Not unless you have some heavy sedative. It’s been, I don’t know, ten days? I’m not going to stress about it.”

 

Molly pursed her lips. “Mhm.”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Molly.”

 

“Nothing,” she paused, “Mr. Stresses-about-stressing-about-stress.”

 

“Hey, I can stop driving your kids to and from school, you know.”

 

“Well, I can expel Harry.”

 

“As if. You’re more likely to _steal_ Harry.”

 

Molly hummed. “That’s true. Alright, I’ll steal him then.”

 

“I’ll invite you and Arthur for dinner and spur him into discussing his book all night. Every. Single. Detail. And you’ll have to eat my cooking.”

 

Molly and Remus stared each other down, the seconds stretching on.

 

Molly broke first. “Oh, fine, I’ll drop Sirius!”

 

Remus leaned back into the couch cushions, crossing his arms smugly. 

 

Molly smiled and said, “For now.”

 

“Remind me again why I willingly indulge in your company?”

 

Before Molly had a chance to respond, Harry came racing out from the hallway, sending Remus into high alert.

 

“Harry, are you okay?” Remus asked, already off the couch and crouching down with his arms out. Harry ran right into the hug and smashed his face against Remus’ cheek, his hot breath against Remus’ ear.

 

“Moomy,” he whisper-shouted, failing at being discreet.

 

“Yes?” Remus whispered back.

 

“My poo-poo is rweally big.” Harry stepped back to beam up at Remus.

 

Molly stifled a snort.

 

“That’s…awesome. You went potty?” A shot of anxiety zinged through Remus. Usually, he waited outside the bathroom door when Harry went to the bathroom. At the least, Harry usually told him if he was going. 

 

“Yep. Do you want to see it?”

 

“It would please me more than anything.” Harry stared at Remus. “That means, yes.”

 

Grabbing onto Remus’ sweater, Harry towed him toward the bathroom, where Ron stood, affirming the poop’s largeness.

 

—

 

They said goodbye to the Weasley’s at five in the evening. Remus reminded Arthur to email him the draft of his new chapter and that he’d look over it. Ron bellowed out a window for Harry to remember to call and say goodnight. Remus was glad he had driven them to the house instead of walked because Harry was, for lack of a better word, pooped out. He dozed off in his car seat the short car ride home and Remus fretted on what to do. If Harry napped now he’d either a) wake up in a few hours, at his bedtime, and then stay up too late or b) sleep through the night and then wake up early. Why didn’t a two-hour energy drink with non-harmful chemicals exist for toddlers?

 

Remus pulled into their garage and after a hesitation woke Harry up and carried him into the playroom, setting him on the ground behind the low coffee table. He pulled out the bin underneath it. When he bought the table at Goodwill, he spent an entire day Harry-proofing it. The drawers underneath it that he yanked out were replaced with plastic bins that fit under, eliminating the possibility of Harry’s fingers getting pinched by closing the drawer too quickly. The sharp corners were sandpapered down into round nubs, a task he threw himself into to avoid nightmares for a night. No child would be injured by a sharp corner in this house if Remus had anything to do with it. 

 

Harry perked up. “Colowr?”

 

“Yep.” Remus pulled out the crayon box from the multitude of art supplies inside the plastic bin. “Do you want me to print out a coloring page?”

 

After a sleepy moment, Harry requested, “Mulan, pwease.”

 

Remus, surprised at an answer other than Lightning McQueen, ruffled Harry’s hair and went to retrieve his laptop. Harry sat in his lap as they looked through Google images with Blank Mulan Coloring Page typed into the search bar.

 

“That one.” Harry jabbed his finger at Mulan in her armor. Mushu sat on her shoulder.

 

“Good choice.” Remus clicked print and listened to the printer start up in the other room. It took embarrassing courage to leave Harry’s side again—the closer night drew upon them, the more anxious it made him to leave Harry’s side. With winter here, it was dark by six o’clock, sun down by five. 

 

When he returned with Mulan in hand, he walked into a post-glitter-explosion scene. Harry looked up, eyes wide, holding the glitter container in one hand and the top of it in the other. Bright pink sparkles glittered all down his front, his hands, the rug, and the coffee table. Remus froze, too stunned to react. Recovering from the shock, Harry shoved the container evidence under the table and put his hands behind his back, looking back up at Remus sweetly.

 

“Did the fairies do it?” Remus fake-guessed.

 

Harry nodded. 

 

Hiding a sigh, Remus instructed Harry to not move. Naturally, when he came back with diaper wipes, Harry sat in the exact same position but his cheeks now had glitter hand-prints.

 

“Next time we see the fairies we have to tell them to be more careful,” Remus murmured, wiping Harry’s cheek. “Maybe they can ask their…the adult fairies to open it for them?”

 

“O-kay.” Harry added, “I like Mulan.”

 

“Me too.”

 

The warm silence between them as Remus vainly tried to clean the glitter from the room loosened the tension he unintentionally carried in his muscles throughout the day. He didn’t love cleaning the way James had but he liked doing tasks and the feeling of completing them. The drawing kept Harry awake while also calm and every so often he reminded Remus that he liked Mulan. While Harry did the finishing touches on Mushu, Remus opened his computer. He needed to message Alice Longbottom for their new address so he could send them a card. It took him six tries to get his Facebook password right and when it opened up to the site, the unopened message number glared at him—sixty-two. With the plan to ignore them as usual, he checked through just in case, feeling strangely compelled to do so. Seeing _Sirius Black_ , Remus slammed the computer shut. Opened it back up. Stared. Started to shut it and then opened it, thinking he should at least open the message so that it made that _read at 6:13_ at the bottom, right?

 

He clicked the message, holding his breath.

 

_Remus. I’m sorry. Please, can we try and talk again? I can do better, just let me show you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes Remus up at 3 a.m. to confess that he was responsible for the glitter, not the fairies 
> 
> I'll post on Tues/Wed


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2015 begins and Remus realizes something big

_January 1st, 2015_

 

Rubbing his eyes with one hand, Remus blindly grabbed for his phone to turn the morning alarm off. 

 

“Why,” he croaked softly to the ceiling, cursing himself for staying up late. Despite setting all the clocks back so Harry thought seven o’clock was midnight and put him to sleep at his regular bedtime, Remus chose to stay up until the real New Year’s countdown. And then three hours after it.

 

Even with how horrible and lonesome the idea had sounded, he did so anyway. It happened every year—it felt wrong, almost dirty in a way, to skip on the midnight tradition. Staring out the window, into velvet darkness, the moon close to fullness—a bitter hurt as always—addicted him endlessly. The empty street and quiet sky allowed the space for his insides to unravel out and hypnotize him into a mood where he didn’t feel quite as ashamed. Last night had brought a special staring-out-the-window mood, a reminder to how things were compared to how they had been.

 

He would pay for that stupid decision today, the first day back to work, a Thursday. The deep thinking from last night carried over into the morning like a strange emotional hangover, like nauseous melancholy. The sun wasn’t even up yet. Why should he be awake when the sun wasn’t?

 

Remus brought his phone close to his face, trying to burn his eyes awake with the screen’s brightness. A text from Emmeline popped up.

 

(6:36) Em: Fuuuuuuukc 

 

(6:37) Remus: Same

 

Not waiting for a response, he pushed the covers back and slid out of bed, shivering when his feet touched the cold floor. He checked Harry’s room, not relieved until he crept closer and saw the polka-dot blanket rise and fall from breathing. Then coffee, wash face, pick his clothes out, coffee, quietly make scrambled eggs, where did he put his coffee, find coffee, wake Harry, eat eggs with Harry, brush teeth with Harry, try and dress Harry, watch Harry dress himself in the most mismatched outfit, coffee, dress himself, grab his packed satchel, shoes, strap Harry into his car seat, drive to Molly’s, sit with Harry in his lap while Harry cried about not wanting break to be over because then Remus leaves him, calm Harry down, hug Molly, subtly flip off Em, kiss Harry goodbye, herd Percy and the twins into the car, drive half-way to school and then circle back because George forgot his backpack, drive again to the school, drop the twins off at their classrooms, walk to his classroom with Percy, unlock the door, turn on the lights, and sit down at his desk mourning for coffee and Harry at 7:56.

 

“Mr. Lupin, Marcus tripped me!”

 

Remus sighed. It would be a long Thursday. 

 

 

_January 2nd, 2015_

 

(11:47) Remus: I need a favor

 

(11:48) Em: this counts as ur IOU that u been holding 4evr. srsly i’ve been having nitemares of when u’d cash that baby in

(11:48) Em: also damn grandpa is up late wtf is stressin u out this much

 

 

_January 3rd, 2015_

 

“Hello?—Hi?—I’m going to hang up.”

 

Remus took the plunge. “Sirius.”

 

“Remus?” The mild surprise in Sirius’ voice at the beginning of saying Remus’ name quickly gave away to hope by the end. 

 

“Yes,” Remus stiffly said, already semi-regretting this decision, looking through the glass doors into the playroom where Harry watched Clifford’s Puppy Days. He tried to keep his tone hushed.

 

“Did you actually put off your caller ID so I can’t have your number?” After Remus’ telling silence, Sirius laughed. “I’m glad you called me.”

 

Remus hated telephone conversations. “Yes. Well.” He nudged Harry’s mini soccer ball with his foot. “You wanted to talk?”

 

“Yes, I—I, uh. Happy New Year. I don’t want to leave things how they ended at the park. I’m not really…I have no plans. I’m just staying up here, you know, home. _My_ home, not, uh, not…that hell hole. I don’t know for how long or what. It just feels right to be here, feels close to them. You know?”

 

_House full of ghosts, mind full with ghost memories, pitying looks, “Remus, I’m so sorry”, “How are you doing?”, “How’s poor Harry doing?”, “This must be so difficult”, “I’m sorry, dear, what a real tragedy”, neighbors, the whole town, every time he went outside, eyes that said I’m sorry more than their mouths did, ghosts, avoiding places, hurting and empty and empty empty a house empty but full full with ghosts—_

 

Remus didn’t answer. It was more rhetorical, anyway. Harry waved, the sleeves on the Christmas sweater Molly knitted a little too long, and Remus waved back with a strained smile. He hoped Sirius would at least be gone by October.

 

Sirius continued, “I don’t know if I’ll stay.” His voice dipped down. “I don’t have much here to stay for anyway.” He released an audible exhale. “We don’t have to reconnect. I know what happened back then— _how_ it happened and right after…” Remus’ lips parted, the word _don’t_ ready on the tip of his tongue. “I want to at least. I don’t know. It felt wrong how we left it. At the park.”

 

“I’m not interested in meeting up again.”

 

“I thought you’d say that,” Sirius said, sounding disappointed. “Remus, I still see you as one of my best friends. I don’t care if you hate me—you’ll always be, I’ll always see you…I miss you.”

 

This strange, emotionally open, honest Sirius weirded Remus out and he found himself almost saying stop multiple times. “I don’t,” _folding paper airplanes, ink smudged hands,_ “want to hear,” _a wobbly whistle, the swoosh swish of aggressively brushing teeth,_ “that. I don’t know who you are,” Remus said clearly and forcefully. _Bloody feet from stepping on a smashed picture frame’s glass._

 

Remus flinched at a sudden _bang!_ Harry had his face smushed into the glass door between them, his hands hitting it above his head. He could faintly hear _Hi Moomy!_ Pinching his phone between his ear and shoulder, Remus waved hello.

 

“Just a second, Harry,” Remus said, holding up one finger. He pointed to his phone. “I’m still talking.” Harry tilted his head and Remus pulled the door open, ignoring whatever Sirius was saying.

 

“Show’s over,” Harry said as Remus muted himself on the phone. “Play outside?”

 

“You don’t want to watch the next episode?” Harry being alone inside while Remus watched him from outside equaled low anxiety. Harry being alone outside while Remus watched him from inside equaled high anxiety—the likelihood of someone snatching Harry and succeeding greatly bumped up. Remus needed some type of separation when talking to Sirius, not wanting Harry to hear the harsh way Remus could speak. “You want me to put on a new show or movie?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No, I want to play out here. In sandbox.” He pointed at the small green turtle sandbox the past homeowners left.

 

Remus debated what to do but the choice seemed obvious. “Harry, can you give me one second?” He unmuted himself on the phone. “Sirius?”

 

“Oh fuck, I thought you hung up.”

 

“I have to—love, you need to put on your crocs when you’re outside, remember? Right there, next to you soccer ball. Good.” Remus’ tone hardened again, “I have to go.”

 

“Can’t your son wait? Just a few more minutes, please, Remus.”

 

“Bye.” Remus hung up. “You want me to grab your pail, Harry, love?”

 

—

 

Molly called it “Mommy brain” and Remus felt it fair to use the term as well—Moomy’s brain. He preferred that explanation over his brain blocking it out to protect himself. 

 

Because while Harry hummed off-key along to Regina Spektor and Remus put a bag of frozen peas in the microwave, three hours after the phone conversation, it hit him. 

 

_Can’t your son wait? Just a few more minutes, please, Remus._

 

_Can’t your son wait?_

 

_Your son._

 

Sirius didn’t know who Harry was.

 

 

_January 4th, 2015_

 

“Still no contact from—”

 

“I think I hear my phone ringing. I must have left it in the car.”

 

“Remus John—”

 

“Sorry, Mols, I can’t hear you! Thanks for watching Harry!”

 

—

 

“How did you go to a gross public restroom and come back smelling better than when you arrived?” 

 

Emmeline grinned, sliding into the booth seat across Remus. “Some girl had this crazy good smelling perfume and offered me some. She’s sitting over there, her blind date’s not going great. Said if it’s really bad I’d send you over to be a fake jealous boyfriend.”

 

“Great, so you get sweet perfume and offer me as an exchange,” Remus drawled. “Why do I have to be the jealous boyfriend? This is the fifth time.”

 

“Because you do it _so well_. You’re becoming, like, a legend among my friends.”

 

“Yeah, and apparently among random men, too. One of my kids’ dad thinks I have six girlfriends. He tried to talk to me about it after our parent-teacher conference.”

 

Em choked on her beer. “Shit, really? That’s—oh sorry, I forgot, we’re talking about Sirius. So,” she grabbed a french fry, “you’re gonna not tell him and wait for him to find out? Not tell him and hope he never finds out? Tell him and move to a different country where he’ll never find Harry and finally download Viber so you can still text me internationally and finally, finally see all the awesome stickers they have so we can have talks solely based on stickers with no words?”

 

Remus chuckled in spite of not meaning too, running a hand over his face. Em rested her chin on her hand, arm propped up by the elbow on the table, attentive and relaxed. She chopped her hair since he last saw her, she said she had the impulse the other night and proceeded to cut it, using a pair of big scissors over her bathroom sink. Thick dark brown hair now hung half an inch above her shoulders, a slight wave to it, and Remus spaced out for a few seconds, staring at the uneven strands. 

 

He came back into himself with a groan. “I don’t know.” He buried his head in his arms. “Can’t this just not exist?”

 

“I don’t think you can use your normal ignore-and-avoid for this one, Rem.”

 

“I don’t do that.”

 

“Okay, sure, buddy.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Am I personally responsible to divulge information when the person I may or may not have to divulge information to had the information at his access for years and therefore should not need any information be divulged to him, but no,” Remus raised his head, glowering at the air, “he had to divulge said information to a trashcan!”

 

Waiting through a pregnant pause, Em munched on a fry. Swallowing, she said, “I don’t even.”

 

Remus sighed, reaching for a napkin to rip up into identical strips and curling his shoulders in. “There’s no space for my life in this. Harry’s Harry, you know, wonderful and I love him but he’s a handful and growing every day. I need, like, seven hands. And then there are my kids at work, I think Alex has troubles at home and I’m thinking about suggesting if Lois’ parents can have the school test him for an attention disor—sorry, that’s.” Remus grabbed three fries and ate them. “I have too much. I’m a thousand miles past insanity at this point and if he forces his way into my life…”

 

“What a shitty life.”

 

Remus frowned. “Em.”

 

“What? It’s true. It’s like acid rain every time your life gets good. Right as—damn, okay, I won’t say it! Shit, it’s freaky how you always know when someone’s about to say it. Right as _that_ happened, Sirius did his shit show. Then you recover after years and happy and then your best friends—” She didn't elaborate. “Suddenly you have a child and no one else left to help you. Every turn you’re slammed with some life-altering shit. Now you’re happy and a great dad—yes, DAD, D-A-D, so shut up, and now he drops back in like a plague.”

 

“Wow, I feel so much better. Thanks.”

 

She threw a fry at his face. “God, for an English major you’re shit at analyzing passages.”

 

“Sorry, I’m distracted by how many times you’ve said the word shit.”

 

“Fuck you. What I’m saying,” she snapped without heat, “is that you never had space for any of that. No one ever has any space. It just happens and you adapt. You won’t break, Rem. We’ll figure it out.”

 

She reached over and placed her hand on top of his. For the first time in the past few days, he felt like maybe…maybe he had a handle on life. That he was in control. She had hit the right spot—the glass is half full, with a delicate spin of pessimism.

 

“Chin up, babe, we might get to see Molly fist fight first hand.”

 

Remus puffed air out his noise in a silent snort. “I would finally be able to die happy.”

 

“I’d throw in a good punch, too, for Harry if it came down to it.”

 

“What about me?”

 

“Eh, I’d give a nice slap for you.”

 

“Such an honor.”

 

“Oh, that’s the signal! Bathroom girl’s date is a _yikes._ ” Em flicked Remus’ pointer finger’s knuckle and he yelped. “Jealous boyfriend mode activate, go save her. Maybe you can get her number and get her to be your fake girlfriend and convince Sirius she’s Harry’s mother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update on fri


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius finds out and is not happy. Remus can't seem to catch a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *falls asleep thinking about fluff for this story (✿ ♥‿♥)* *wakes up and opens document, sees outline where fluff is not for several chapters( ͠° ͟ʖ ͠°) * 
> 
> seriously the angst you guys these shits need to get it together. It lessens up considerably after this, though (in terms of angst fighting)
> 
> ***TW: grieving loved ones. Check end notes for mild self-harm trigger

_October 31st, 2014 Two Months Ago_

 

_Remus put the last juice boxes and peanut butter jelly sandwiches into the cooler, along with the bags of fruit. He brought it to the garage, placing it on the front passenger seat in the car. He crept back into the house and to Harry’s room, peeling back his blanket._

 

_“Shh, go back to sleep, baby,” Remus murmured, cradling Harry even more tenderly on this day. After three years, he had perfected buckling Harry into his car seat while jostling him the least amount, succeeding in not waking him up. Harry’s mouth parted, drool peeking out his mouth._

 

_Triple checking the seatbelt’s tightness, Remus readied himself with the anxiety of driving. Being inside a car felt raw. The first year, Remus only had to push Harry a few blocks in his stroller. This was the only day he regretted moving away._

 

_Remus closed the door, opened the driver’s door, and got into his seat. He fiddled with the rearview mirror and adjusted his chair, pretending he wasn’t buying time. The garage door was already opened so as not to wake Harry. Pulling out, he thought about how this would be the first year Harry would probably be able to remember when he’s older and the first year he would understand better. In general, he was such a sensitive child. Remus wondered if he’d react differently._

 

_The roads were empty, the highway too, though a few cars journeyed with him for a few exits or more. Perhaps coming back from a late party or on a road trip. Driving at four a.m. was oddly similar to going grocery shopping at night, wondering why the fuck people were there. He wondered if he could get away with playing music softly. Harry’s light sleeping usually meant no and Remus wasn’t particularly interested in entertaining a toddler for a four-hour car ride twice in one day._

 

_Remus worked through the messiest of his emotions by the time they arrived. Parking, Remus wondered if he should wake Harry or let him sleep a little more; they were thirty minutes early. They’d need to leave in about four hours—a lot of fours today—and they had a few things to pack in. The ice cream parlor would be the hardest, the owners had known him and James since they were children. Remus hoped he didn’t run into too many people. He covered his face with his hands for a minute that turned into another minute and another. This was so hard to get through alone._

 

_Not alone. He had Harry._

 

_Unbuckling, Remus opened the cooler and took out a juice box._

 

_“Harry,” Remus cooed. “Love, wake up.”_

 

_Harry’s eyes fluttered and Remus poked a straw through the juice’s hole, handing it over. It took a few tries for Harry to get the straw into his mouth and he drank quietly, waking up slowly._

 

_Harry opened his eyes. “Here?”_

 

_“Yeah. This is it.”_

 

_They walked hand and hand up the grass hill, from one row of headstones to the next, slowing down the closer they came. Harry, to Remus’ surprise, remembered exactly where to go and he slipped from Remus’ hold, reaching out to touch the joint headstone of James and Lily Potter, his small hand between their names._

 

_“Ma-ma.”_

 

_“Yeah.” Remus nudged Harry’s hand from Lily’s carved name over to James’. “Daddy.”_

 

_Everything hurt a little less imagining James’ snort at Remus having to call him that._

 

_They sat next to James and Lily for an hour on a picnic blanket, eating sandwiches and crackers and sliced strawberries. Remus lost his voice at one point and had to drink a whole water bottle from talking non-stop. Harry asked for story after story about his parents._

 

_“I am like them?”_

 

_Remus thought about how Harry would endure hearing how much he looked like James and how he had Lily’s eyes all day when they run into people from their hometown. He smoothed back Harry’s wild locks, coming back to stroke his thumb over the scar on Harry’s forehead._

 

_“Very much,” he said. “You have your mother’s heart.” He moved his hand to Harry’s chest, feeling the hummingbird beat. “That means you’re kind and nice to people. You are funny, just like your dad. You make me laugh and smile all the time. You are smart. How do you spell Mom?”_

 

_Harry’s eyebrows knitted together. He took big breaths between each letter. “M—O—M.” He looked hopefully at Remus._

 

_“Yes, exactly! See? Very smart, just like them.” Harry puffed his chest out, smiling with his baby teeth on display. “You are loyal, which means you love your friends so much and,” Remus swallowed, “you would never leave them.”_

 

_Harry nodded his head solemnly. “I love Ron.”_

 

_Remus smiled. “Are you ready to go to the next grave?”_

 

 

_January 6th_ _, 2015_

 

“I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

 

“Crap,” Remus hissed. He had dropped his spoon in surprise, dumping a hot spoonful of soup onto his lap. He grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it, biting his tongue through the bubbling burning of his thigh. 

 

“He looks like James.”

 

“What are you doing in my classroom?” If it wasn’t for the most definitely real pain, Remus would think he was dreaming right now. In the middle of lunch recess, Sirius Black stood in his empty classroom doorway. “You can’t be here.”

 

“I’m a Marauder, I can sneak into a public school easily, Remus,” Sirius scoffed. “You should be glad I’m not sneaking to whatever daycare you put my nephew in.”

 

Remus’ mouth dried.

 

“Yeah,” Sirius said, stalking into the room. “I found out. How could you have kept this from me?”

 

“You can’t be here.”

 

“James and Lily’s _son._ ”

 

_Say he’s wrong. Keep Harry to yourself. Chase him away._ Remus said, “His name’s Harry.”

 

Sirius faltered. “What?”

 

“Harry,” Remus enunciated. “If you’re going to talk about him, say his name.”

 

“Harry,” Sirius said carelessly. He planted himself on the corner of Remus’ desk, leaning forward. His hair was pulled back in an untamed ponytail and it fell over his shoulder with the movement. Remus just wanted to eat his soup. “How could you do this to me?”

 

“Sirius, calm down,” Remus said, the phrase leaving a scorching familiarity on his tongue. He broke Sirius’ piercing gaze. “I thought you knew.”

 

The words were barely out of his mouth before Sirius said, in a near snarl, “Bullshit.”

 

Remus spoke in an even tone, “You said it yourself, he looks just like James. You saw him that time you came to my house. You messaged me on Facebook, where there are tons of old pictures of him and James and Lily. Why and where would I get a son? He looks the same age as how long ago they died—there really wasn’t any way I could have hid the obvious truth even if I wanted to.” He pushed all his weight down to his feet, sliding his chair backward with a screech. He stood and walked to his classroom door, kicking up the stopper and pulling it closed. The clock told him six minutes remained before his students would line up outside to come back in for language arts.

 

“How low do you think of me?” Sirius whispered. “This whole time you thought I didn’t care that they had a baby and died?”

 

Remus took his time walking back. He chose to lean against the white board and not sit back down, putting his hands in his pockets. Sirius adjusted his position on the desk to see Remus better, his cheeks hollowed, most likely because he was sucking them in and biting down on the inside.

 

“I don’t know what to think of you anymore,” Remus said honestly. “I wasn’t the only one. Why do you think everyone’s pissed at you?”

 

“It was in the letters?” Remus nodded. After several moments, Sirius asked, “Did James think I didn’t care?”

 

Remus itched to check his phone, make sure no emergency texts awaited. “I don’t know, Sirius. He flew to London to make sure you were getting the letters _and_ opening them. Everyone made different assumptions.”

 

“I want to see him.”

 

“You know where his grave is.”

 

“No, not James. Harry, I want to see Harry. He looks so much like James, so much like James,” Sirius lamented. “And he has Lily’s eyes.” 

 

Remus closed his eyes, feeling the room begin to spin. His blood pulsed wildly and he imagined Sirius seeing it as if there was a large lump under the skin of his neck jumping out to scream how fast his heart beat, how terror built up inside him. Bile tickled the bottom of his throat. 

 

“That’s not a good idea,” he said.

 

“And why the bloody hell not?”

 

_Bloody._ It reinforced Remus’ stance. This wasn’t his Sirius. This was the Sirius who disappeared to another country for five years, who apparently picked up British lingo. 

 

Remus opened his eyes. “He’s a little boy. He needs stability, reliability, consistency. He’s hypersensitive. You don’t know a thing about him, you don’t know a thing about parenting. I don’t trust you and I don’t trust strangers around him. I will not,” Remus’ voice became gravelly, “bring more pain into his life and you said you have no idea what you’re doing and how long you’re staying and I will not let someone come into his life just to walk out of it.”

 

Sirius sprang up from the desk, knocking over a stack of papers in the process. His face twisted in a heartbroken scowl. “He is _my_ nephew. Don’t you ever fucking dare say I would ever do anything to hurt him. I’ve missed three years of his life and I won’t miss another damn second.”

 

“Four years,” Remus said. His mind rang warning bells to stop but he couldn’t stop himself from rubbing it in. “He’s four. _I’m_ his legal guardian. Their will left him to _me_. I get to decide who is in his life and who isn’t.”

 

Sirius jaw muscle ticked. He breathed out a bitter puff of laughter. “You’re not good with kids. Who would give a baby to _you_?”

 

“Get out of my classroom.”

 

“He’s just as much of mine as he is yours!”

 

“THEN WHERE WERE YOU!” Remus didn’t know what was more startling, the shout that ripped out from his chest or the fact that he grabbed a purple whiteboard marker and chucked it at Sirius’ head, skimming his ear.

 

The bell punctuated their mutual shock. The bell rang for ten long seconds that felt like ten long years. Remus and Sirius stared at each other, truly seeing each other for the first time. All the eye avoidance, all the walls they put up, all the arguments that distracted them, fell away from shock. 

 

The first few seconds, Remus begged his body to turn away. He kept saying Sirius was a stranger and he didn’t know him but he never let himself think about it. But now, he faced the truth directly and the tiny, tiny hope inside him, that he despised for being there, that hope that maybe Sirius was the same—he argued the same, he was just as stubborn—deflated and crawled back inside a hole. Something in those five years had undeniably changed Sirius and Remus felt the loss from five years ago all over again.

 

The last seconds were filled with the sag in Sirius’ eyes, how they glistened, the hunch of his shoulders, how his face looked like the aftermath of an earthquake. He saw the torment, the denial, the suffering, the regret, and a softness he didn't possess before.

 

Remus didn’t know what his own face looked like, all knew was how embarrassed and upset he’d be after this. He hated anger—refused to express the emotion, would rather let it boil under his skin while he pretended to not be victim to it. With Harry, he needed to be the softest, gentlest adult. Never once had he yelled or slipped up with the toddler. After living for twenty-four years, Remus perfected his control over his feelings, no matter how close to the surface they were. Yet, Sirius somehow brought it out of him. _God_ , did Remus hate it more than anything. He knew without a doubt that his face betrayed the shame he felt for bursting out, how scared he was about violently throwing the marker without a thought—weakness he never wanted Sirius to see.

 

The moment was raw and vulnerable in an intimate way that made Remus’ skin crawl.

 

The bell ended and they looked away. Remus told Sirius to leave through the back door and he did.

 

 

_January 8th, 2015_

 

Remus sat in the shower, his knees pulled up. He had turned the shower head to the left and he tilted his body to the left as well, resting his head against the tiled wall. Some of the water sprayed him but most of it hit the wall and cascaded down, lightly scorching his left shoulder. Steam filled the tiny shower and soon he’d have to open the door to help him breathe. Goosebumps ran up his right side.

 

_You’re not good with kids. Who would give a baby to_ you _?_

 

Remus shut his eyes, his heart constricting painfully. He hated that feeling, he used to temporarily scar himself in the past on accident— _clawing at his chest stop it stop it why did his heart feel like that make it stop make it stop god please it hurt it hurt how can a heart hurt like this clawing and scratching get it out get it out scratch marks and blood? wait. what did he do. what was he doing he didn’t mean to scratch he didn’t know what he was doing he hadn’t realized he was doing it he’s going crazy he didn’t mean to he swears—Harry’s crying what he just went to sleep oh he can’t do this he’s not a dad he’s not Ja—_ and his hand moved over his heart instinctively, curling lightly to scrape his skin the barest amount. It felt comforting.

 

_You’re not good with kids._

 

He wasn’t. He never wanted to be a parent, definitely not to a biological child and not an adopted one either. The only legacy he had wanted to leave for this world would have been an academic one. Sirius was right—who would give a baby to him? He only had Harry because he was the only choice. Literally no other person existed to take the orphaned toddler except an adoption agency or possibly Lily’s terrible sister, who would just send him off to an orphanage anyway.

 

Remus had no idea what he was doing when he took Harry in. He made mistake after mistake after mistake. Molly taught him everything, including the simplest things that any average person should know, like playing. Remus _had to be forced_ into playing with Harry. How fucked up did he have to be to not know how sit with a child and move cars around?

 

He was better now, he knew that, no longer stiff and awkward. He may not be a good caretaker but he’d be damned if he didn’t try to be. He wanted Harry to have a good childhood. He wanted Harry to feel loved and safe. He _needed_ to keep Harry safe. All day, even in his dreams, his seconds ticked with Harry, Harry, Harry. Remus tried to compensate for everyone lacking in the toddler’s life—he tried to be a mother, a father, an uncle, a friend.

 

Remus knew he was a pathetic substitute. He didn’t need to be reminded. _You’re not good with kids, you’re not good with kids, you’re not good with kids not good with kids not good with kids kids not good not good—not. good._ His mind repeated it, sang it, nonstop, even when he woke up in the early morning to pee, it whispered along in his head.

 

Remus blindly and expertly reached for the faucet, turning the heat up. He flinched at the scalding heat but worked his body into relaxing in it, imagining it washing away the grime of who he was as a person, power washing out his repetitive thoughts. The itching needing to check on Harry prickled down his spine. He’d need to get out soon or he’d have a panic attack. Since Sirius stormed into his classroom, Remus had been even more paranoid about Harry’s safety. He checked the house’s locks tenfold more, he woke up frequently at night to peek in Harry’s room, he texted Molly during school hours. When he got in slumps like these, the thoughts darkened like an infection that spread black tar into the root of his heart. Images pounding in his mind of Harry being kidnapped, Harry choking, Harry suffocating in his sleep, Harry falling off a cliff, and much, much darker images of Harry’s dead body and causes to how it happened that he could never speak of.

 

The worst day of his life had been four months after they died. Harry had a high fever and needed to be rushed from the doctor’s office to the E.R. They kept him during the night to watch over him and Remus sincerely felt like he had never recovered from that day. 

 

He could never live with himself if he got Harry killed.

 

 

_January 10th, 2015_

 

Logging into Facebook, Remus repeated to himself this was the right decision. The only decision. If Sirius forced himself into Harry’s life, Remus needed to facilitate it in the best way possible for Harry. Time to put aside personal history. From now on, he’d be professional, detached Guardian Remus. 

 

Not bothering to read the string of messages Sirius had been sending, Remus copied his perfected message from his Google Docs and pasted it into the message bar, reading it one more time for spelling and grammar. 

 

_You need to get your act together. Figure out your plan for the next six months, clean yourself up, and control your emotions better. You have two weeks and then you can meet with me at the Half Moon Cafe on Saturday at three o’clock. If you can show me you’re a stable, composed, and levelheaded adult, I can schedule a time and way for you to meet Harry._

 

Remus pushed _enter_ before he could agonize over it anymore and shut his laptop without signing out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Remus in the shower scene reflects shortly on a time where he lightly harmed himself by scratching without realizing it. It's the italicized part right at the beginning of January 8th
> 
> probably update wed ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first Park Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 12:52 am so it's /basically/ wed. still

_January 25th, 2015_

 

“— _me, Jessie, and Ari, if they test me, they sorry, ride us up like a_ ,” Remus mouthed the lyrics quietly as he graded his students’ aquatic animal reports. He had one earbud in, his other ear listening for any noise indicating Harry waking up or having a nightmare. 

 

Harry had been in a sour mood since he woke up this morning, which was out of the ordinary for him. Remus had confronted him about it earlier, gently commenting that he seemed “a little grumpy”, to which Harry replied “No, I’m BIG gumpy!” and proceeded to stomp his foot. Honestly, Remus felt blessed he managed to get Harry to nap.

 

“ _You need a bad girl to blow your mind_.” Remus bit the cap off his special red correction pen and circled _are_ in the sentence on Oliver’s report, writing _our_ above it.

 

He planned on telling Harry today about Sirius but if he continued his Mr. Grumpy-Gills mood, maybe Remus would hold off until tomorrow. Or he could still tell him and then Harry would unconsciously associate Sirius with bad moods. Remus half-heartedly scolded himself for the hopeful thought. He met up with Sirius yesterday, an exact two-week mark since he sent the message. Hands down the most awkward twenty-six minutes of Remus’ life, by far.

 

Seemingly taking Remus’ demands to heart, Sirius showed up clean-cut with combed, tidy hair in a professional bun and non-wrinkled formal clothes, much less like the just-got-off-a-twenty-hour-flight slightly deranged look he had going on before. He talked in a low, calm voice and made a total zero provoking comments. The only area he lacked in was what his future plans were, which he floundered through when Remus questioned him, saying he found an apartment he could rent month-by-month back up North in James and Remus’ hometown. Month-by-month wasn’t a fabulous show of commitment. 

 

Remus carried through the ordeal as he would have for a potential babysitter interview, having his prepared list of questions—though there were considerable changes, such as Sirius having no resume listing references. He had never had to state a rule of no verbal arguments with him in front of Harry either. Or give a shovel talk.

 

It was the most forced, terribly uncomfortable meeting he had ever sat through. It felt like one of those movies where he needed to walk out of the room during a second-hand embarrassment scene, except a tenfold worse because he couldn’t walk out or fast-forward. Levi, a friend of Em’s and a waiter at the cafe, walked up to them with drinks and raised their eyebrows at the tense atmosphere, twisted on their heel and left, not coming back for five minutes. 

 

When Remus came home, after picking up Harry from the Lovegood’s, he violently crossed off the meeting in his planner. He put off adding the tentatively scheduled park meet-up for next Saturday, waiting a few hours before morosely writing it in.

 

Oliver’s conclusion sentence brought Remus back out from his brain, saving him from the downward Sirius spiral. Amused, he read that sea turtles were the best because they were Oliver’s favorite soccer player’s favorite animal. Remus imagined the aneurysm Percy would have if he knew, considering he wrote an additional paper with his assigned report.

 

“MOOMY!”

 

Remus dropped his pen and ripped out the earbud, standing in Harry’s room within seconds. 

 

Lumped in the center of his bed, wrapped in his blanket like a burrito, Harry grumbled, “I need a twash can.”

 

“Uh, alright. Are you feeling sick?”

 

Harry’s face screwed up in what Remus recognized as frustration from being misunderstood. “No. I need a twash can ‘cos I gonna live in it _foweva_ ‘cos I so gwouchy!”

 

“You mean,” Remus asked, confused and suppressing laughter, “like Oscar?”

 

Harry sighed deeply and flopped onto his back dramatically, the blanket rising and falling in—Remus assumed—a vertical stomp.

 

 

_January 26th, 2015_

 

Running both hands through his curls, Remus sobered up. “Love,” Remus started and Harry briefly paused his truck driving before vrooming it once more. “Someone’s coming to visit next weekend. They want to talk.”

 

Harry picked Princess Leia out of the truck. “Moomy biz-nest?”

 

“A bit like business, yes.” Remus opened the cardboard door, allowing Leia into Wreck-it-Ralph’s castle. “The person, uh, he used to know—he was friends with your mom and dad. From school.”

 

Harry perked up, eagerly asking, “Hagger?”

 

“No. Not Aunt Minnie, either.” Interest lost, Harry picked up Princess Leia again, marching her up to Ralph, prodding the action figure until Remus started moving him. “You haven’t met him before. I was thinking we could go to the park and you can play while I talk with him?”

 

“O-kay. Ice cweam?” Fudge’s Ice Cream & Sweets was right on the corner of the block next to the park, a prime spot for a steady stream of customers in the summer. 

 

“Sure.” Remus thought about their budget and added, “We can even get pizza next door if you want.”

 

Princess Leia jumped up and down.

 

 

_January 30th, 2015_

 

Remus woke up at three a.m. wide awake. He padded out his room and sat on the playroom couch, spacing out the window until dawn broke. 

 

He and Harry played hooky, spending the day coloring pages and pages of lilies, despite how ugly Remus really thought the flower was. They taped them up around the house, Harry insisting on having one right above his bed. They baked a cake, made a blanket fort, and had a movie marathon.

 

Before bed, they lit two candles and blew them out, each making a wish. Remus slept with his legs hanging off Harry's bed and with Harry on his chest.

 

 

_January 31st, 2015_

 

Remus squatted, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Sirius sat a good distance away on the bench closest to the playground, which Remus appreciated. 

 

Gently tilting Harry’s head in Sirius’ direction and pointing him out, Remus said, “That’s him. Do you think you can say hi?” At the question, Harry fisted his hands in Remus’ sweater, tightly snuggling into his side. He felt more than saw Harry shake his head. “Okay. How about I hold you, I’ll say hi, and then I bring you to the playground?”

 

Harry moved his hands to Remus’ neck, stepping on his tiptoes, and did his best to climb and attach himself to Remus. Like his body was born to do this, Remus twisted his body, wrapped his arms around Harry, and stood up, hefting him onto the right spot on his hip on the first try, in one swift natural movement.

 

Walking to Sirius, who now watched them, Remus narrated everything to Harry, “I’m walking now to the bench. Gonna say hello quickly and then I’ll bring you to the slides.”

 

“Ice cweam,” Harry mumbled.

 

“Mhm, and then we go to Fudge’s after I’m done. And pizza.”

 

Harry nodded, his head bumping against Remus’ shoulder.

 

When they were within ten feet of each other, Sirius waved lamely, dropping his hand a second later. Subconsciously, Remus’ hands tightened around Harry, at the same time the toddler turned his face away from Sirius and dug his fingers into Remus. He needed to remember to cut those nails later, a _super_ fun activity. Harry absolutely despised getting his nails cut and pouted afterward for an hour. At least his grumpiness from last weekend had worn off.

 

“Hi,” Sirius said, strangely breathless. 

 

“Sirius.” Remus nodded his head stiffly. Sirius shuffled his feet trying to peek at Harry and Harry stubbornly turned his head the other way. His thighs clenched around Remus’ midsection. 

 

“This is Harry.” Remus lifted the hand from Harry’s back up to his head, ruffling his hair. “We’re going to go down to the playground.”

 

“Hi, Harry. My name is Sirius,” Sirius said, his voice missing all the usual sharp edges and roughness. Remus begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was an acceptable tone and volume. _“Want to go onto the fire escape?”, fingers sliding against warm skin, dancing, “Remus, I—_ “Maybe, uh,” Sirius asked, “I can play with you—later? Harry?”

 

After an unsurprising silence lacking any acknowledgment from the toddler, Remus said, “Well. I’ll be back in a minute.” He walked Harry down, going from sparse dead grass to wood chips—the only downside to this park, research showed that sand provided a softer landing than bark. Harry hung onto Remus when he was set down, clutching the sweater again. 

 

He mumbled into Remus’ chest, “He’s the man from the house.”

 

“Yes, that’s right.”

 

Harry went quiet and Remus gave him a few minutes before poking him into a better mood, slowly chasing him in loops and sliding, very cramped, down the slide with Harry between his legs.

 

Ten minutes later, he sat next to Sirius, contemplating if he had spoken too soon last weekend, because these may be the most awkward minutes of his life. 

 

“Uh,” _oh god no why,_ Remus thought as Sirius struggled for words, “I’m…sorry for how I, uh, acted at the school—in your classroom.” Sirius trailed off. Remus tugged on his beanie. “Yeah. So. I’m, uh, sorry.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Sirius nodded his head, not saying anything, mimicking a bobble head. Remus focused his energy on keeping track of Harry. Obviously, he preferred being down there with him but the playground was in a safe neighborhood and Remus was mostly alright being temporarily separated. Harry had his arms out like wings, running in zigzagged lines, making a buzzing airplane sound that Remus could faintly hear.

 

“So,” _no jesus why do you have to make this more uncomfortable stop talking,_ “he won’t let me come play?”

 

Remus shook his head. Feeling Sirius’ expectant stare, he sighed and elaborated, “No. He’s shy.”

 

“I didn’t realize how much. I mean, you told me at the coffee shop, but.” Remus glanced sideways without meaning to and Sirius’ face was crestfallen. It bothered him that Sirius continued using the same gentle voice that he had used with Harry. It didn’t soothe Remus at all. It didn’t. Harry wasn’t with them, so stop. Remus didn’t need his softness.

 

“It’s a slow process. If you want to get to know him.” Remus’ heart dropped as Harry disappeared behind a short plastic climbing wall. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted, “HARRY! You have to be where I can see you and you can see me, remember?”

 

Black curls popped back into view. Remus gave a thumbs up. He must have been in a good mood because even with Sirius here, Harry kissed his hand and threw it dramatically outward. Remus reached out and pretended to catch the invisible kiss from the air, pressing it to his cheek. He reciprocated and Harry caught Remus' kiss and put his hand into his pocket, choosing to “save” the kiss for later. As Harry unsteadily climbed the play structure’s steps and slid down the slide, Remus became aware of Sirius’ heavy gaze. Remus rolled his shoulders— _not_ squirming—to shake off the uneasiness. 

 

No more words were exchanged for another ten minutes. 

 

“My letters?” It took Remus a moment to realize he was the one who asked the question.

 

Sirius’ head reeled back slightly. “Sorry, what?”

 

Remus’ stomach prickled. “You didn’t even read my letters?”

 

Sirius clearing his throat said it all. “Remus, I—that night, it did—”

 

“First rule,” Remus talked over Sirius, “if you’re going to be in Harry’s life, you are never to mention that night to me. Ever.”

 

_Postage stamps mysteriously appearing on his desk, a girl with standing in the doorway illuminated by sunlight, whispered confessions under a blanket, stomach rolling at the sight of envelopes, toes bathed in moonlight._

 

This trumped their cringe-worthy meeting at Half Moon Cafe. If only Remus hadn’t opened his _big fat mouth._  If only Sirius had addressed the letters and not—

 

The semi-frigid air between them transformed into this unbearable, floppy wet atmosphere. Like stepping in liquid with only your socks on and not being allowed to take them off. Every several seconds Sirius’ lips parted before closing again, wisely not saying anything, and the sound of it agitated Remus’ nerves. 

 

Remus could do this. He could sit here. No cowardice to be found at this bench.

 

Sirius continued to open and close his mouth.

 

Nope. No. Remus was not built for this. No thank you. “It’s actually, uh, time for us to go.”

 

“Wait, Remus, when can I see—”

 

“I don’t know, message me on Facebook or something.” He hunched his shoulders as he walked away.

 

Spotting Remus, Harry raced over, his bright puffy green winter coat making a _swish swish_ sound when his arms rubbed against his side. Remus picked him up in a spin and gave him a squeezing hug. 

 

“Ice cweam?”

 

“Ice cream,” Remus agreed. He didn’t think about mint chocolate chip double scoops. Or a tongue sticking out to show a cherry stem tied in a knot. Or knocking waffle cones together in the summer heat.

 

Remus rolled his shoulders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I am not wrong Jan. 30th is Lily's birthday. 
> 
> Playing hooky = skipping school 
> 
> Oscar the Grouch is a character that lives in a trash can on Sesame Street
> 
> update on sat
> 
> thank you for reading!! may you all be blessed by the Dr. Pepper bottle I got with its label decorated in Prongs' stag brethren : )


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Em fuss over Remus, Remus fusses over thoughts, and Harry is Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the kudos and comments!! they really helped me get through this week : )

_February 1st, 2015_

 

“What was he like?”

 

_Strange. Passive. Soft._ Remus shrugged.

 

Molly pushed a plate of lasagna across the counter. “Eat. He didn’t harass you? Bother Harry?”

 

“I’m not hungry. No,” Remus bit his lip, “he just…sat there. He didn’t try to get Harry to talk—he did with me, though. Try to talk.” He grimaced.

 

Charlie came barreling into the kitchen, asking Molly where his skateboard was.

 

Molly narrowed her eyes. “Why? It’s dark in an hour.”

 

“ _Mom._ It’s, like, dark in an hour and a half! Carlos asked if I wanted to hang out— _Carlos_ , mom! I can’t say no.” Charlie clasped his hands together. “Please. It’ll only be a little bit.”

 

Fred and George sped past them, brooms between their legs, yelling loud battle cries, and nobody reacted, completely unfazed. 

 

“Fine.” Molly threw her hands in the air. “But you better be back here to set the table before dinner, you hear me?”

 

“Yes!” Charlie jumped once and Molly reached out, pulling him in to kiss the top of his head, ignoring his groaning.

 

“Oh shush. I think I saw it in the garage by the tools,” she said.

 

Charlie hurried in that direction and Remus called out, “Don’t forget your knee pads and helmet! Cracking your skull open is lamer than safety!”

 

Turning her body back to Remus, Molly picked up a ladle and smacked the back of his hand. She pulled the lasagna plate out from where Remus hid it behind a potted plant. “Eat or your head will be next.” She waved the ladle and tsked. “You’re getting skinny again. I won’t let you lose weight, not on my watch.”

 

“I am not,” Remus protested. “Dinner’s in an hour, why would I eat now? I can’t eat double.”

 

Putting her hands on her hips, Molly asked, “Why are you letting Sirius be around Harry?” Remus picked up the fork and messily shoveled a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. Molly smiled. She bustled around the kitchen prepping supper and packing the kids lunches for tomorrow. He mildly resented the space she was giving him, her biggest weapon and best asset, because the comfortable _I’m-totally-not-expecting-you-to-say-anything-but-if-you-want-to-talk-that’s-okay_ safe space she created made the words he tried to shove down with lasagna climb up his throat.

 

“I’m tired of chasing him away. I’d rather admit defeat than have this blow up and the debris hit Harry in the face.” Remus took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. He admitted, “James would want Sirius in Harry’s life—there’s no doubt about it.” He kept the building guilt and recurring nightmares of James being disappointed to himself. “Who knows if Harry will even accept him.”

 

“I don’t think that’s admitting defeat. Doing the best thing for Harry is always a win.” She gave Remus a kind smile while opening the oven and waving the heat away. “Although _I_ still think you should send him away. Kick his ass.”

 

Remus sullenly pushed a chunk of cheese around the plate and muttered, “I threw a marker at him.”

 

“What?”

 

Remus had meant to say that under his breath. “Uh.” Sheepishly he confessed,“I may have chucked a marker at his head when he confronted me in my classroom?”

 

Molly looked equal parts scandalized and proud. 

 

“I might have maybe also chased him out of my house with a knife two months ago…”

 

 

_February 2nd, 2015_

 

“How did you manage to get it there?” Remus asked, mostly to himself. He dunked the washcloth in the soapy bathwater and held Harry’s right arm up, gently scrubbing away green paint from his armpit. Harry offered no explanation, making a _bop bop bop_ sound as he moved a rubber duck up Remus’ arm in small jumps.

 

They had painted a sign and crown for Arthur’s birthday on the sixth. Every time, Remus lied to himself that arts and craft could be a non-messy affair and, yet again, they ended up in the bathtub. Technically, Harry was in the bath, but Remus was just as wet if not more so than the toddler. His soaked t-shirt was pretty much a second skin at this point. As if on cue, Harry canon-balled his fist into the water, sending a nice splash to Remus’ chest.

 

“Oops.” Harry’s wide eyes spoke of his innocence but his smile gleamed with delight.

 

Lightning-fast, Remus grabbed the small bath-time bucket, filled it with water, and dumped it over Harry’s head. “Oops,” he said.

 

Harry let out a giggling outraged cry and made grabby hands. Remus handed him a dry washcloth. He rubbed his face, wiping his wet eyes, and then tossed the cloth, hitting Remus’ shoulder. Remus stuck out his tongue. Harry responded in kind, going so far as to blow a raspberry.

 

“Alright,” Remus chuckled, “pajama time. Is the nakey baby squeaky clean?”

 

Harry struggled to pronounce squeaky, gave up, and slapped the water’s surface to the tune of, “Clean! Nakey! Clean! Nakey!” Remus hauled the squirming boy out—he’d pull the drain later, the sucking sound too scary—and wrapped him in the fluffy green towel with a dinosaur hood.

 

 

_February 3rd, 2015_

 

[11:46] Em: Lmao u chased him w a knife??? 

 

[1:50] Remus: Stop gossiping about my life w mols!!!

 

[1:51] Em: Bitch u can’t take my prime source of entertainment away

[1:51] Em: What do u think child care services do?? gossip about the kids?? oh ya look Ernie’s shat himself again 4 the 3rd time this week

[1:51] Em: No!! we talk about the parents 

 

[1:52] Em: Stop having a star-crossed lover life if u want 2 b left out

 

[1:52] Remus: I expect child care services to watch my child??? like I pay them to??

[1:52] Remus: EMMELINE I SWEAR TO GOD

 

[1:54] Em: Calm down grandpa ur going 2 break a hip. i take it back. love is gross anyway

 

[1:55] Em: Btw mols has lectured me into making u eat more but im not supposed 2 tell u 

[1:55] Em: So keep your door unlocked on wed im coming with dessert and forcing it down ur throat

 

 

_February 4th, 2015_

 

Remus “forgot” to check Facebook until Wednesday morning, while his kids were in P.E. class. Sipping his coffee, he expected to find several messages from Sirius but only one sat waiting for him. Two polite sentences expressing he had a good time on Saturday and hoped he could come again this weekend at the same time. Setting his phone down, Remus frowned into his cup. This required adding a hot chocolate packet into his coffee.

 

This was a horrible idea—what was he thinking? He needed to protect Harry, this idea was doomed from the start. Sirius wouldn’t be there for them, Sirius would run, Remus didn’t know when but one day they’d go to that park and Remus would sit on the bench and wait and wait and wait and Sirius would be gone forever. Harry remained oblivious but if these park meet-ups happened every week, he might actually warm up to Sirius. Having no idea how Harry would react to becoming attached to someone only for them to be ripped away scared the hell out of Remus.

 

It sent warning sirens off in his brain that sound eerily similar to the heartbroken cries of a one-year-old.

 

—

 

“Ow,” Remus said on reflex, his hand flying up to where something hit his eyebrow, even though it hurt him not one bit. Harry giggled beside him.

 

Em smiled, holding up a pea from the dinner plate Remus had slaved over for fifteen minutes. “You’re giving me pneumonia. Stop thinking so loud.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Remus said at the same time Harry copy-cated, “Stop thinking too loud!” 

 

“Yeah, Moomy, stowp tinking too woud!” Em copy-cated Harry copy-catting her, curling her lip in a goofy snarl.

 

“Yeah, Moomy, stowp tinking too woud!”

 

“Stowp tinking too woud!”

 

“Stowp tinking too woud!”

 

“Stowp tinking too woud!”

 

Harry and Em stared each other down, pounding the table with their fists as they chanted back and forth. Taking advantage of Em’s lapse in attention, Remus picked up a penne noodle and smeared it in a small pool of butter. He chucked it at her face, hitting her cheek, mindful not to hit her nice shirt. 

 

“Ow! What the fu-uhh-nion?” She touched the butter stain on her cheek.

 

Solmenly, Remus declared, “Em is a poo-poo face.”

 

“Poo-poo face!” Harry repeated.

 

“Poo-poo face.”

 

“Poo-poo face!”

 

“My word, is Remus Johnth Wolf-boy using _potty talk_?”

 

Remus' mind blundered on, forgetting Sirius for a whole thirty minutes—!—and even when it circled back to him, it felt more manageable with his stomach still aching from laughter. Em shooed him away from the table, shoving another brownie in his hand—“You better damn well eat these, I baked my heart and soul into them.” “Safeway?” “$13.48, so enjoy them, poo-poo head.”—and insisting on cleaning up and doing the dishes for him.

 

Maybe even if Harry came to like Sirius, he’d be fine if the man ran away. Harry had so much love in his life, from people like Em and Molly and Ron, that an absence wouldn’t hurt him.

 

 

_February 5th, 2015_

 

Nope, no, this was a terrible idea. Sirius didn’t belong in Harry’s life.

 

—

 

But if Remus tried to barricade Sirius out, he might ambush Harry when Remus isn’t there. 

 

—

 

It felt too sudden—they were just yelling at each other and now they would be sitting next to each other _every weekend_ at the park?

 

—

 

Maybe he and Harry could move to New Mexico. 

 

—

 

SIRIUS WAS AN ASSHOLE WHO DESERVED NOTHING.

 

—

 

Shouldn’t everyone be entitled to a second chance?

 

—

 

What was Remus thinking about second chances? Look, he allowed Lois to use paint again during Thursday Art Hour and he just smeared bright orange into Andy’s hair. Again. The universe planted this sign in front of Remus for a reason—no Sirius.

 

 

_February 6th, 2015_

 

Goosebumps crawled up Remus’ body like the memories sliding to the forefront of his mind, painting videos on the inside of his eyelids. The cold tile floor hugged his under thighs like an old friend. He swallowed the bile in his mouth, hoping to not wake Harry like last time, pressing his forehead against the toilet seat.

 

He had to let Sirius into their lives. He couldn’t live with these dreams—James shouting so un-James-like at Remus, calling him a pathetic asshole for doing this to Sirius. Lily joined the nightmare this time, her dark red hair unnaturally long, tendrils darting through the air like octopus tentacles, wrapping around his neck, suffocating him. Her green eyes blazed, unchanging as everything else about her changed, morphing into Harry, who told him he wished Sirius was his legal guardian and that he hated Remus.

 

Remus didn’t expect that Harry calling him Remus and not Moomy would hurt the most. 

 

A watery vision of Peter, rosy round cheeks and golden locks, emerged—the only one missing from the dream. Remus’ sweaty palms curled forward around the toilet seat. He wished Peter was here with him to help shoulder the questions of what and what not to do.

 

_Stitches, a yellow nursery, pouring out vodka bottles and filling them with water, metal on metal, a court date, buying diapers in the wrong size, paper cranes, dirty dormitory, sabotaged dates, four pairs of knobby knees, freckled face and soft laugh, the frozen second before it all happened._

 

With shaky knees, Remus pushed himself up. He’d message Sirius back and then wrap his present for Arthur up. Everything was okay. He was okay. 

 

_Butterflies full of promises, fluttering in his stomach. Music throbbing in his feet at dance clubs, trying to forget. Baby vomit on his shirt. People dying and leaving and dying and leaving. Life becoming loss._

 

He was okay.

 

Everything was okay. 

 

_—_

 

Molly grabbed Remus’ chin in a firm grasp, pulling his head down to meet her short stature. She moved his head this way and that, narrowing her eyes at him. After finding whatever it was she was looking for, she released him and tutted.

 

“No coffee for you today.”

 

Remus gaped. “What?”

 

She picked up a newspaper, rolled it up, and swatted him. “No—Coffee. It makes you anxious and jittery.”

 

“I’m always anxious and jittery!”

 

“Exactly. Now don’t make me sic Emmeline on you. FRED, GEORGE, GET YOUR BACKPACKS. REMUS IS HERE.” She patted Remus’ cheek and hugged him warmly. “I’ll see you after school, dear.”

 

—

 

Even with Remus’ running panicked thought stream, Arthur's birthday dinner was a blast. Bill captured the most amazing photo of Arthur’s expression when he opened Remus’ birthday present—a signed photograph of Chris Hemsworth by Chris Hemsworth (Remus splurged a little too much on the gift), Arthur’s celebrity crush that he was weirdly enamored by for reasons he wouldn’t explain. Giddy and pleased, Remus looked forward to printing the candid photo at CVS on Sunday and adding it to his 2015 photobook.

 

Around eight p.m., a sudden loud clap boomed and the seven Weasley children rushed to the window, Percy loudly arguing with Fred that lightning comes _before_ thunder. Harry, on the other hand, scrambled to Remus, climbing into his lap with a distressed noise.

 

Molly insisted they stay the night and, for once, Remus had no protests. He didn’t fancy driving in the raging storm. While Harry slept in Ron’s bed—Remus holding his hand until they both fell asleep—Remus took refuge on the couch, eyes drooping with the hopeful thought that he could cancel plans with Sirius tomorrow due to the weather.

 

He knew Sirius’ stubbornness would find a way to see them no matter what, but you know what they say—ignorance is bliss, especially when paired with the sound of night rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no Sirius in this one, but next chapter is going to be allll about him
> 
> [remus when he starts obsessing/has flashbacks](http://feedmethehellagay.tumblr.com/post/162311334796/allantruong-embarrassing-memories-hitting-u-like)  
> I hope you enjoyed! I know this one was more mundane but Remus needed some time to stress in-between Park Dates. Sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes/low-quality writing, I've been more sick this week ¯\\_( :/ )_/¯


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a library date, a park date, and a bittersweet memory with Sirius

_February 7th, 2015_

 

Turbulent anxiety sloshed in Remus’ stomach. He wished to check on Harry, watch to make sure he was alive—Schrodinger's cat—but he wanted to respect Ron’s privacy, even if he was only four. No matter your age, you don’t want an adult creeping into your room. Breathing through his paranoia, he scavenged the Weasley’s kitchen quietly.

 

A negative _mm-mm_ sounded behind him and he whipped around, a hand coming up to grip his heart. Molly leaned against the counter, her hands on her hips. 

 

“Jesus, Molly,” he whispered. 

 

“All you’ll find is decaf. No caffeine for you, Mr. Lupin.” Molly seemed less concerned about waking others up, talking at her normal volume.

 

“Argh,” Remus wrinkled his nose to both the coffee ban and the title, “don’t call me that on weekends. Mr. Lupin is bye-bye, off in the Bahamas, passed out in the sun.”

 

Molly knocked him with her hip and began pulling out egg cartons and pancake mix. Remus took up his usual position, sitting at the counter, waiting for the caffeine-free tea he knew she’d push on him. While he waited, he drew up the guts to open the Facebook Messenger app on his phone.

 

_Good morning. I’m assuming you don’t want to meet at the playground due to the rain. Would you feel alright if I came to the house? Or a coffee shop?_

 

“I notice he doesn’t mention anything about rescheduling.”

 

Remus jumped in his seat, swearing at Molly again. She continued to hover over his shoulder, undeterred. Briefly considering if it was worth fighting her about no snooping, Remus decided he might as well ask for her advice if he was going to get it whether he liked it or not. He could at least guide it in the direction he wanted.

 

“Yeah. What do you think? Can I push him off?” He refused meeting on Sundays in case something went wrong. He wanted Harry to at least have a full day afterward to recover if he needed to. “He’s not coming to the house. Harry gets all jumpy.”

 

Molly hummed. “You could go to the library? I heard him telling Ginny he wanted to go.”

 

“Oh. He never said anything to me.” Remus sucked his bottom lip in. It was at least three weeks since they last went, a long time for them. Molly walked back into the kitchen, resuming her cooking. Groans and shouts were beginning to stir upstairs. 

 

_Meet us at the public library, ten minutes from my house._ Remus hit send. Instantly, a message popped up in response, leaving him dumbfounded. How could Sirius possibly respond that fast?

 

_Why am I not surprised?_ And then another— _Of course. I’ll see you two soon._

 

Remus drank a sip of tea, welcoming the burning heat. He glared at his phone. _Why am I not surprised?_ What was that supposed to mean? Annoying. Irritating. Rude _. Why am I,_ Remus mimicked in a baby voice inside his head, _not surprised?_

 

“You’re thinking too loud.”

 

Remus moved his glare up to Molly’s back. _Why am I not surprised?_ Ugh. “If you can find the off switch on my brain, then by all means, go ahead.”

 

—

 

Unbuckling Harry, Remus dropped a kiss on his curls. “And remember, Sirius from the park is going to be here, too. He’s just going to sit with me but you can come get me at any point, okay?”

 

“O-kay.” Harry held onto Remus’ hand as they walked through the parking lot, swinging their arms. “I don’t wike it. Moomy and me time.”

 

Remus’ heart sprang into his throat as Harry almost slipped on the wet ground. “Careful, love. I know.” _Believe me, I know_ , Remus thought. He didn’t like it either. “It’s only a tiny bit of our day. You get to have me all the rest of the time.”

 

Harry pulled them to a stop and then jumped in a small puddle, splashing in his ladybug rain boots. “I wanna be a dol-phin.”

 

“Sounds like a great plan.”

 

They wiped their feet on the mat inside the library and Harry shyly said hello to the Head Librarian, who held out a small chocolate for him with a wink. All the library staff adored Harry—Remus worked here part-time in the summers and often brought Harry along. Remus smiled warmly at her.

 

“Have you seen a man with long black hair? My age, you might have seen him ride here on a motorcycle?”

 

“Mhm. Quiet fellow. He’s in the children’s section, I think.”

 

Giving his thanks, and promising to visit more often, Remus and Harry went on their search for Sirius, finding him in one of the two plush armchairs—Harry’s favorite spot. Remus had more than a few photos of Harry curled up on the wine red velvet, fast asleep with a book hanging open in his lap. Harry hid behind Remus’ legs as soon as Sirius saw them, but he didn’t ask to be held. Sirius didn’t try to get a peek of Harry and only looked to Remus when he said hello.

 

Remus raised one shoulder a minuscule amount as a greeting and waddled away in a funny-looking shuffle. Harry refused to let go of Remus’ legs, hiding his face in them and shuffling behind, continuously stepping on the backs of Remus’ shoes. He was more reluctant to let Remus go than he had been last week at the park, pulling book after book off the shelves at random and making Remus stay to look at the pictures.

 

“Not happy to see me, huh?” Sirius asked when Harry finally gave Remus permission to leave. Remus fell into the other armchair, releasing a puff of air. 

 

“Libraries have always been our special thing,” he explained.

 

“Trespassing into his territory.” Remus wondered how rude it would be to ask Sirius to keep his musings inside his head. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

 

Remus side-eyed Sirius dubiously. They fell into their silence, a little less suffocating than previous times. He preferred to think the new comfortability came from being among books and not because Sirius’ presence was becoming familiar. At least Remus fretted less here than at the park. He trusted the library to be safe for Harry. An employee Remus knew stacked books and Harry jumped alongside her, chittering away like a bird. Ignoring the looks Sirius shot him, Remus opened his satchel, taking out his lesson plan for the next two weeks.

 

_The summer before junior year, lying in bed side-by-side staring at glow-in-the-dark stars, dark black hair forcibly buzzed short, James and Remus secretly cutting their own hair off at night in solidarity, Mrs. Potter’s cooking, water balloon fights—_ Remus physically shook his head, sending the images scattering. Harry sat at the tiny children’s table now, flipping through what Remus guessed was the cartoon pigeon book he loved. Staring at the little boy, Remus waited until the dizziness faded before returning to his work.

 

The rest of their time at the library was, Remus dared to say, borderline pleasant. He felt Sirius’ gaze but the man said nothing, not even when Harry held up a book in front of his face, adamant that Sirius not see him, and approached them, whispering for Remus. While reading the requested Arthur book to Harry at the children’s table, Remus glanced toward the armchairs. Sirius smiled at him. Remus frowned and looked back to the book’s text, placing a hand over Harry’s.

 

He prodded Harry to go exploring for more books when the toddler began squirming in his seat, his attention flittering away. Sirius didn’t say anything when Remus came back and sank into the armchair. 

 

A few minutes before their allotted time together drained away, Sirius said, ever so quietly, “I’m not going to take him from you.”

 

Remus pretended to not hear him, wiping his face free from emotion, carefully hiding the overwhelming swelling inside him.

 

 

_February 14th, 2015_

 

Remus demanded, “What are those?”

 

Picking up the sunflower bouquet in his lap, Sirius quirked his eyebrow at Remus, like he found the question amusing. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

 

“I know that. But why do you have _those_?”

 

“They’re for you.” Sirius held them out.

 

Wiggling slightly away on the picnic bench, Remus pointed his body toward the playground where Harry played with another child he knew. They had arrived before Sirius this week.

 

“Remus,” he could hear the eye roll in Sirius’ tone, “they’re just flowers. I’m not asking you on a date or anything.”

 

“I know that!” Remus snapped. He scratched his nails— _uncurling a fist, brushing a thumb over blue veins, a night both warm and chilly—_ along the bench’s wood. “I know you’re not. That doesn’t mean I want them.” 

 

Sirius made a strange frustrated growl-groan. “Remus, I’m trying.”

 

_I never asked you to. I don’t want you to. Do you know I would rather be with anyone else than you on this day?_ Taking out his phone, Remus texted Molly, putting up a barrier between him and Sirius. He watched Harry, professional at typing without looking down. 

 

[1:42] Remus: Kill me kill me kill me whyyyyy

 

[1:43] Molly: Do you want L> \- _- <J 

 

[1:43] Remus: ????

 

[1:45] Molly: That’s me with my arms raised to show off my muscles. And my angry eyebrows 

[1:45] Molly: So I can rescue you

 

Snorting, Remus started to respond when something brushed up against his arm. Sirius poked him with the bouquet. 

 

“Sunflowers,” he said, jabbing Remus’ shoulder. “C’mon. I know they’re your favorite.”

 

Remus elbowed him away, crossing his arms. “They’re sunflowers. Everybody loves them. It’s a cliche favorite.”

 

“But it’s _your_ cliche favorite.” Sirius, annoyingly brave for some goddamn reason, set the flowers in the space in between them. “So take them.”

 

“Sirius,” Remus snapped, “stop it.”

 

A couple, attached at the hip, nuzzling into each other, looked at them in alarm as they walked past. A strip of guilt unrolled in Remus and he excused himself to check on Harry and say hello to the little girl he played with, Hannah. She also went to Molly’s daycare.

 

Sirius had put the sunflowers onto the ground by the time Remus came back and he seemed more intent on drinking Harry in than starting a conversation with Remus. Remus fiddled with his phone, not feeling up to texting Molly back or responding to Em’s text inviting him to greasy mozzarella sticks. 

 

God, this was ridiculous. He led his students through making Valentines this week and yesterday he laughed as they went around giving the cards to each other with little candies attached to them. The holiday never meant much to him, it was just capitalism playing thousands of people. It didn’t bother him the past years, it didn’t bother him this whole week, it didn’t bother him this morning. And now? He felt—

 

Well. It didn’t matter how he felt. Just…not good. 

 

Remus’ fondness for the flowers actually came from his mother. When he was around Harry’s age, Remus and his father planted some in their garden for her birthday. She used to tell him about their solar tracking, how they turn to face the sun. Another cliche—not that it stopped him from liking it and passing the metaphor onto Harry. Thinking about his mom made his heart flip. A double flip, being reminded who helped him get through her death.

 

_Stupid Sirius and his stupid sunflowers._

 

“MOOMY ICE CWEAM WITH HANNAH?”

 

Remus glanced at his watch. They were supposed to stay for another twenty minutes.

 

“It’s okay,” Sirius interjected. 

 

Remus hesitated, not quite sure why, and shouted back to Harry, “If Hannah’s parents are okay, we can go. Just give Moomy a second.”

 

After a tense moment, Remus and Sirius said goodbye to each other, both looking at the ground. As he jogged to Harry, Remus made the mistake of looking over his shoulder, seeing Sirius’ slumped form shuffling away at a snail pace. Remus stopped—for the last three weeks, Sirius drove four hours each way just to see Harry for an hour or so, not even getting the benefit of talking to him. Sighing through his nose, Remus pulled his big boy pants on and turned back.

 

“Sirius! Wait!”

 

Sirius stilled, not rushing to meet Remus halfway. The concern radiating off him was palpable. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

 

Remus shook his head, his chest heaving from hurrying over with his heavy satchel. “The flowers.”

 

“What?”

 

“The flowers,” Remus said. “Please.”

 

“Yeah,” Sirius said, blinking. “Yes—yeah, of course.” He held out the bouquet and Remus recoiled when their fingers brushed, but that did nothing to dampen Sirius’ new cheery mood. “I’ll see you next week, then. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

 

 

_February 14th, 2006 Nine Years Ago_

 

_“Alright, guys.” James opened up his coat, showing off the numerous pockets, eight of which were occupied with spray paint cans. “Buddy system—Rem is with me, and Peter you can be with Sirius.”_

 

_“Objection, I think Remus and I should be together.”_

 

_“About damn time. What the fuck do you think everyone’s been saying, just go on and k—” Sirius slugged James in the arm to get him to shut up, growling at him. Remus ducked his head, pretending to be interested in the loose threads on his sweater. Their mission was derailed for another five minutes as Sirius tried to force-feed a smelly sock into James’ mouth. Finally getting the upper hand, James shoved Sirius away and said, “No, you and Remus are always buddies, it’s time to switch it up.”_

 

_“Who is the lookout again?” Remus intervened, even though he knew the answer._

 

_“No lookouts,” Peter recited, “every man for himself.”_

 

_“Just the way I like it.” Sirius smirked, his hair ruffled from his scuffle with James. Remus shook his head fondly._ Loser, _he mouthed. Sticking his fist into his pocket, Sirius pulled it back out and acted absolutely floored with shock that his middle finger was up._

 

_James and Peter’s gagging got their attention. “Let’s go you disgusting shits.”_

 

_They split up. Remus, being the master escaper, led James on a winding route through the school to avoid getting caught by any Student Patrols or teachers. At one point, they heard footsteps running down a hallway near them._

 

_James and Remus shared a look, knowing those footsteps by heart, and said together, “Sirius.” No matter what, Sirius always attracted the janitor’s cat anytime they needed to sneak around. It was like he was a dog drawing cats that sought vengeance on behalf of all felines. They picked up their pace, taking a sharp turn and jumping onto the staircase banister, expertly sliding down in spirals to avoid the echo their shoes would make. When they finally arrived, Sirius and Peter silently mocked them, making gross faces, somehow having made it to the school dining hall first._

 

_“Yeah, yeah, you dirty mongrels,” James whispered. “Think fast!” He tossed a spray can at Sirius, none too lightly, but Sirius’ reflexes had always been on point and he swiped it out of the air with ease._

 

_Making quick work, James sat atop Remus’ shoulders and Sirius sat atop Peter’s. Since James was their prized artist, he spray painted a messy outline—they didn’t have time for finesse—whispering to Remus what direction to move toward. Peter followed, struggling, to the finished outlines and Sirius worked to color it in while James moved onto the next part._

 

_“I’m so sorry,” Remus whispered to Peter._

 

_“Why?”  
_

 

_“You have to carry that fat ego. I have no idea how you’re not squashed into the ground.”_

 

_“Fuck you, Moony!” Sirius spat whilst grinning down at Remus. “I have half the mind to spray your face.”_

 

_Remus stuck out his tongue._

 

_When they finished, Remus’ watch read four-thirty a.m. Daring to live dangerously—“TheMarauder way!”—they loitered around, Peter and Remus joining in on the fun and spraying hearts and other unsavory things on the wall. They’d be painting over it in detention in a day’s time but the pink and red portrait of their Headmistress was worth it._ Minnie, will you be our Valentine??? _was written next to her enlarged face. Sirius had sprayed whiskers and cat ears on her and James, when they weren’t looking, wrote_ ur such a cat-ch.

 

_Peter was in the middle of moonwalking—the four of them got sidetracked sliding across the newly waxed floor in their socks—when a scratchy voice yelled at them from the end of the long hall._

 

_“Hey! Who’s down there?”_

 

_Peter fell on his ass in surprise and James reached to help him up, grunting, “That’s our cue!”_

 

_Sirius snatched Remus’ hand, yanking him into a run, ignoring James shouting at him for cheating the buddy system. Trying not to focus on how warm Sirius’ hand was, Remus steered them to their shoes. Their competition to see who could slide the farthest in one go from earlier now seemed like a bad choice—to get their sneakers, they had to go in the direction of the school janitor._

 

_“Faster, faster,” Sirius urged. And then, “Moony, you asshole!”_

 

_Snickering, Remus stepped over Sirius’ sneakers, which he had snuck away to spray pink earlier. “Just grab them, come on.”_

 

_They zipped past James and Peter, briefly unlacing their fingers to flip them off, and booked it toward the opposite exit of the janitor, who was gaining on them._

 

_“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Remus whisper-yelled, squeezing his hold on Sirius’ hand._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly reccomend the [pigeon books](http://pigeonpresents.com/data/interiorspreadls/pigeon_hotdog_spread_lg.jpg)  
> by Mo Willems that Harry reads


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has a night out with Em and Harry is curious about Sirius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my Spotify playlist for this recommended a song by the Dresses called Friends Are Dead.......... where is your tact, spotify
> 
> thank you everyone who sticks with me!! and for all the nice comments : )

_February 15th, 2015_

 

The air danced with salt, grinding against each other like two desperate strangers, so close that they were inseparable. Remus thought this as he swirled his straw in his drink. It was like being at a beach, breathing in the salty air, except much grosser. Too many people packed into the club’s dance floor, their body heat and sweat wrapping around Remus. He stood at one of the tall and tiny round tables, somebody having stolen the chairs for it. Em danced somewhere in the throng, he assumed, either with the guy who asked her to or with someone she ditched him for. 

 

“Alright, Lupin?”

 

_Alright, Evans?_ Remus smiled at Florence. “Good. You look nice.”

 

She wore a glittery crop top, exposing the belly button piercing she insisted she hated but never did anything to change, and a tight skirt—Remus wondered how she’d dance in it. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself. Em?”

 

Remus indulged a few chuckles. “Mols, actually.” Molly and Em bickered every time over who got to style him. Em claimed she had better taste and Molly argued that she needed to live vicariously through someone.

 

“I need to meet her someday. Finally got my drink,” Florence said. “Who thought one bartender in this place was smart? Seriously where the fuck did Em bring us. It’s so shady but a million people are in here?”

 

“With Em, sometimes it’s best not to ask.”

 

Florence hummed, her eyes and attention somewhere else. Leaning in she said, “Hey, pretend to scratch your back and look at that girl. Long legs, black hair.” Remus casually looked over his shoulder, pretending his back had an itch. “Is she checking me out?”

 

Looking back to Florence, he nodded. “The belly piercing must be working its magic.”

 

“Fuck off. I don’t know, she could be looking at you. Hm. You know what, Imma go for it.”

 

“Go get’um, tiger.”

 

Florence laughed, a mix of a giggle and an unattractive snort. “I like when Em brings you around.” She left, swaying her hips in a way Remus could never hope to pull off. 

 

Once again, he was left alone. He surveyed the room, seeing if anyone eyed him. He didn’t go out with Em often, but enough to have practiced how to appear unapproachable. Body language did wonders, along with going on your phone. Still, some people persisted. Unlocking his phone, his heart warmed seeing the picture Harry’s babysitter sent of him curled up in his bed, fast asleep and drooling. His blue Pegasus dangled off the bed and his fairy lights were turned on, illuminating the lily drawing. Remus half-wished to be there. 

 

Knocking his drink back, he used his tongue to curl around and catch the last, mostly melted, ice cube. He crunched on it, shifting on his tired feet. As out of place and miserable he may have looked, he did enjoy coming out in his own way. He knew it was good for him and it relieved that restless itch. His mind quieted a bit, the pulsing music and animated environment distracted and broke up his thoughts. He never acknowledged it, but a small part of him resented how much of an adult he had to be, how fast he had to become one. He loved Harry, so, so, so incredibly much and he never regretted taking him in—not one bit. 

 

But…he was twenty-four. He related more to Molly, who was ten years older than him, than to Em, who was two years younger. The fun “college experience” never happened and he knew some people chose not to have it, preferred to be married and become parents young, but more and more people waited until their thirties to settle down, preferring to have no strings attached in their twenties. Using the time to figure things out—who you were, what you wanted.

 

He never had that option. At twenty-one, Harry became his responsibility—the years of college before that were drowned in his depression after Sirius left—and all his friends from boarding school slowly slipped away. The gap between their lives too vast. That, and they felt too guilty to be around him after the accident. Remus no longer existed, to them he was just a walking reminder of their friends’ deaths. This was why he hated Facebook and never went on it—all the pictures of old friends traveling and partying and the jokey, friendly posts between each other, having no trouble in reconnecting. 

 

Going out with Em and her friends carried that same disconnection he felt, but less so. It was easier to pretend with them because they had no connection to his past. Which he liked—other than Hagrid and Minerva, the past belonged in the past.

 

Em emerged from the dancing crowd and Remus read her lips say _Riptide._

 

Remus said _what?_ with his expression, knowing she wouldn’t hear him over the dubstep music and she was shit at reading lips.

 

“Riptide,” she shouted when she got to his table.

 

“No need to yell. I can hear you now. What?”

 

“ _Lady, running down to the riptide. Taken away to the dark side_ ,” Em sang. “Ya know? It’s always on the radio.”

 

“Oh.” He had forgotten the lyrics from having skipped the radio channel every time it came on, having heard it twelve times too many. “What about about it?”

 

Em changed her posture, raised her eyebrows, and pursed her lips. Using a haughty voice she said, “Twas what you embody.” She collapsed back into who she was, loose, and rolled her eyes. “Some guy said that to me—well, he said I was some Beatles song, something about the sun because I’m ‘the brightest light in the room’,” she made a retching sound. 

 

“More like _Hello darkness, my old friend_.” Remus dodged her punch. “And what, so I’m Riptide?”

 

“I don’t know. You’re like a sad-ish hipster. Like, you look like a sweet dude but silently suffering on the inside.”

 

“Thanks,” he dryly responded.

 

“I was just joking, picked some random song off the top of my—you know, it’s actually a great pick. What’s the lyrics,” she paused, scrunching the corners of her eyes and looking up at the ceiling. Remus stirred his drink as he waited. “Ugh, this is going to bother me if I don’t.” She pulled her phone out from her bra and a minute later she shoved it in his face. “The _I just wanna,_ down to _any other way_.”

 

Remus took it, looking for the start of the lyrics. _I just wanna, I just wanna know / If you're gonna, if you're gonna stay / I just gotta, I just gotta know / I can't have it, I can't have it any other way…_

 

“Ha, ha,” Remus said, handing the phone back. Em smiled with razor teeth and a knowing look, making him laugh. She rested her arms on the table, leaning in on her elbows.

 

“I’m thirsty. What’s that?”

 

“Flat, lukewarm soda.”

 

“Blah. Well, I’m going to get a drink, bitch about the economy, and you’re going to tell me all the people you think are cute. You’re not going to dance with anyone so we gotta get your adrenaline rushing by, _god forbid,_ ” Remus laughed again, “looking at someone. Then we’re gonna dance—oh yes we are—around the outskirts so my acey boy doesn’t endure any accidental groping. Sound good?”

 

Remus took a moment before agreeing with faux exasperation, knowing from the start he’d say yes. He knew if he wanted to, he could say no and Em would ditch her friends and go to Jack-n-the-Box with him or let him bail out if he needed alone time. But tonight he felt good and he had some old memories he needed to shake off.

 

“Get me a coke!” Remus flicked one of his blasted sweaty curls away. “Extra ice cubes.”

 

“Ooh, living dangerously now, I see.”

 

 

_February 21st, 2015_

 

Twenty-minutes into their weekly park meeting, Harry ventured close to a tree near them, hid behind it, and stuck his arm out—waving frantically until Remus came over.

 

“Yes, love?”

 

Harry cupped his hands around his mouth to show this was a secret. “Oh,” Remus said, leaning down so Harry could reach his ear. 

 

“Ice cweam.”

 

Remus cupped Harry’s cheek, his mind instantly getting side-tracked by how warm it felt, probably a flush from running around. He’d need to have Harry drink some water soon to stay hydrated. “Um, oh—ice cream. I know, we always get some after.”

 

“No,” Harry’s leg twitched, a pre-stomp, “ice cweam _now._ ”

 

“Now?” Remus turned his head over his shoulder and Sirius’ head snapped away when Remus caught him watching them. He faced Harry again, stroking his thumb over the hot cheek. Harry knew nothing about how these park dates were for him to warm up to Sirius’ presence and not actually because Remus needed to speak with Sirius. 

 

Harry tugged on the rope string hanging down Remus’ winter hat. “He come.”

 

Remus blinked. “You…want Sirius to come—with us, to ice cream?”

 

Harry nodded. 

 

“Oh. Um. Yes, okay.” Remus badly recovered from his surprise. “Do you want to ask him?”

 

Shaking his head, Harry pointed to Remus.

 

“Okay,” Remus softened his voice. “I’ll ask him. Do you want to go now?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

Moving his hand down from Harry’s cheek to his neck, a soothing hold, subtly checking his pulse point—nice and steady, perhaps a bit accelerated—Remus asked, “Code word?”

 

“My head is itchy.” An effective code word, if Harry ever said it when he felt uncomfortable or unsafe, anyone in vicinity was suddenly 100% okay with Remus taking Harry home. Even hinting at lice sent people running. Earnestly, proud to show he remembered, Harry scratched his head.

 

“Excellent,” Remus praised. “Plan B?”

 

Harry tapped his scar. Generally, neither were necessary, Remus knew Harry’s feelings before he did, based on his body language. Still, never can be too prepared—Harry had used the itchy head with a babysitter once, having the sitter call Remus to tell him. It was the only time Remus had gone over the speed limit in years. In the end, the dire situation turned out to be that Harry was too embarrassed to poop with a stranger in the house. When Remus arrived, he had pooped his pants.

 

Honestly, Remus related.

 

“You stay here and I’ll be right back. He’s a nice man and I’m sure he’ll love to come.” Remus kissed Harry’s cheek, patting Harry’s neck. His knees cracked as he straightened them.

 

Sirius watched anxiously as Remus approached, probably fearing Harry wanted to leave early like last week. He bit his lip, not sucking it in like Remus did, his teeth exposed and visibly sinking into the pink flesh. 

 

“Would you like to get ice cream with us?”

 

Sirius balked. “Wh—at?

 

“Ice cream,” Remus repeated, already bending to grab his satchel and scarf. “With us.” When Sirius’ silence drew on, Remus sighed. “I mean, your time will probably be shorter, Harry eats, or licks it I guess, pretty fast. But it’s a good sign and he’ll be put off if you say no. This is usually how it goes, his interest in you is now piqued and he wants to observe you up close.”

 

Sirius cut in, “That’s, like, the most you’ve ever spoken to me at once.” Remus scowled, busying his hands by refastened his satchel’s buttons better. “But yes, I’d love to as long as he wants me to.” He sounded composed but everything else about him screamed excitement, almost blinding Remus. He threw his leather jacket on and pushed down on the balls of his feet, instead of his heels, so when he stood up from the bench, he bounced forward like Tiger. His grin was even wider than when Remus accepted the sunflowers—which he had given to Harry to give to their elderly neighbor, Mrs. Figg. A better alternative than Remus’ trash can. 

 

“Reign it in a little,” Remus said. Sirius dimmed the energy down slightly and Remus knew from experience that that was the best he’d get. “If you hurt his feelings, I _will_ run you over with my car and then your motorcycle.”

 

Sirius poorly suppressed a shiver. With that, Remus’ smiley Moomy face surfaced and he walked, expecting Sirius to follow, back to the tree. Harry’s arms were raised and Remus swooped him up, positioning him so he could have a good view of Sirius if he wanted to spy.

 

“I can carry your bag,” Sirius offered.

 

“No thank you.” His tone stayed light but Remus used his eyes to glare. His satchel thunked against his hip as they walked but he didn’t need any help. He could function on his own perfectly well. Even if it made the other shoulder feel uneven in terms of weight. 

 

He checked the road for cars—left, right, left, right, left—and ignored the puzzled look Sirius shot him. Crossing the crosswalk, Remus whispered to Harry, “Why’d the chicken walk across the road?”

 

“How?”

 

“He didn’t. He was carried.” For emphasis, Remus jiggled Harry. It took a prolonged pause and then Harry gasped, offended and delighted.

 

“I’m the chicken!” A statement mixed with a question.

 

“The most wonderful chicken.” Back on the sidewalk, Remus nuzzled his nose against Harry’s cheek. The tension had sapped out of Harry and he wiggled to be let down, less concerned about Sirius being with them. He held onto Remus’ hand, though. Sirius rushed ahead, opening the door to Fudge’s Ice Cream & Sweets, having trouble pushing instead of pulling.

 

A few people milled about, not many longing for something so cold in the winter. The shop was split in half. The first half was the long counter stretching far into the shop with ice cream cartons on display behind glass. A large blackboard hung over naming all the flavors—including the month’s new experimental ones—drinks, and baked goods. Beyond that, there were shelves and stands filled with all sorts of candies and sweets and a seating area next to it with mismatched, colorful tables. 

 

“Harry! What a treat, what a treat indeed. And what treat can I get you?”

 

“Hello, Cornelius,” Remus said to the shop owner, Mr. Fudge. He was a bit much for Harry, a little too loud, and so Remus introduced Sirius to him, thrusting him toward the short man wearing an awful green hat. “Good to see you. This is Sirius.” Remus didn’t know what title to accompany that so he gave no explanation to how Sirius tied into his life.

 

While Sirius said hi to Fudge, Remus used the opportunity to usher Harry to the closest open table near the ice cream counter. They chose one with golden paint and red stripes going in spirals on the chairs. “You guard the table for us?”

 

Harry punched the air, defeating an invisible threat. “Yes!”

 

“Rocky Road?”

 

“Please.”

 

“And you’re sure you don’t want a booster seat?”

 

“I’m _fouwr_ , not a baby.”

 

Remus gave Harry a thumbs up, which he returned, kicking his legs in the air, too short to touch the ground. Back at the counter, Sirius’ hands were in his pockets, his head bent as he scanned the different flavors. Remus, with an eye on Harry, came up and ordered one small Rocky Road in a cup, not a cone.

 

“I need a minute for what I’m going to get,” Remus apologized to Fudge. With Sirius here, his regular was out of the question. From Remus’ periphery vision, he saw Sirius take out his wallet. “Woah, what do you think you’re doing?”

 

Sirius’ eyebrows raised. “I’m…paying for the ice cream?”

 

“No,” Remus said slowly, “you are not.”

 

Sirius laughed, almost baffled. “Come on, Remus, it’s my treat.”

 

“We don’t need your money.” Remus rolled his shoulders. “I’m perfectly capable of buying it myself. Harry’s my responsibility.”

 

“Remus.” The silent _you’re being ridiculous_ undertone came across clear. Remus glared at Sirius, holding the eye contact while flipping opening his satchel and pulling out his own wallet. Sirius watched him, eyes wide and lips twitching upward. 

 

“Fine,” Sirius said. “Then I’ll buy _your_ ice cream.”

 

“Wh—no. No—you know what? I’m not going to get ice cream.” Remus smiled and crossed his arms. “So.” He uncrossed, stepped up to register, and handed over his cash, saying he wasn’t getting anything for himself. He raised his eyebrows at Sirius as he brushed past him.

 

Pulling out a chair, Remus pushed it closer to Harry’s and sat down, sliding the ice cream cup to the boy.

 

“Thank you, Moomy,” Harry said, digging in with the lime green spoon. Harry _loved_ the spoons because they were small and like “little babies”. At home, they had a basket filled with them and sometimes Harry had them play Big spoon and Baby spoon, where Remus played with their regular silverware.

 

“Nu-uh, wait a second.” Remus opened his wallet, pulling out a white plastic square and ripping it open. He handed over the flat circle inside. “You don’t want a tummy ache, do you?”

 

Grumbling, Harry took the white chewable Lactaid pill and stuck it in his mouth, sassily chomping it with his mouth open to show Remus.

 

“Bleh,” he said afterward, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth to wash away the pill taste. 

 

Sirius arrived at the table a few minutes later with a hot chocolate. Remus blinked at it. Sirius’ preferences must have changed—not that Remus cared. Or paid attention. Harry shrunk a little and brought his hands into his lap, abandoning his frozen treat. Pushing his chair back from the table, Remus coughed and patted his thigh. Harry reached out and Remus pulled him into his lap, adjusting them into a comfortable position. He circled his arms around Harry for safety and Harry grabbed his ice cream, digging in again.

 

Sirius watched them with an expression Remus didn’t quite understand. Remus shrugged with his face, trying to communicate that it wasn’t personal. Unfamiliar people frightened Harry.

 

“You know what?” Sirius heaved a theatric sigh, his voice gentle for Harry. “I’m not sure I want hot chocolate. Hm. No, no, I want ice cream. Do either of you want mine? I’m going back up to get mint chocolate chip.”

 

Remus’ breath caught in his throat at the ice cream flavor— _old red vinyl booths, waffle cones, “So, this is how you two spend your summers?”, teeth aching from the cold sweet._

 

“Moomy loves hot chocolate,” Harry mumbled, shrinking into Remus after speaking. 

 

Sirius’ eyes lit up at being spoken to for the first time. The joy delayed his response. “Oh, he should have it then. I’ll be right back.” Once Sirius stood, his face out of Harry’s view, he smirked at Remus, back to being a little shit about paying, and walked past. 

 

Completely not spiteful at all, like a responsible, sane adult, Remus chugged the hot chocolate in four large gulps. Because he was thirsty. Not because he didn’t want Sirius to come back and watch, with satisfaction, as Remus drank it. He placed the empty mug back on the table, ignoring the mild nausea blooming in his stomach from consuming so much so fast. Since they were alone, Remus burped out loud and Harry laughed. 

 

Sure enough, pastel green ice cream dotted with chocolate joined them at the table, wrapped up in that checkered brown coat. Sirius got more comfortable this time, shrugging off his leather. Underneath, he wore a white short-sleeved shirt, a brown coffee-looking stain on the collar. Like the first time they met at the park, when Sirius demanded information about their deaths and his ears were red from the wind, it bothered Remus that he didn’t dress for the cold. Annoying.

 

They ate in quiet. Remus couldn’t tell because Harry was in his lap, but he assumed Harry watched Sirius, inspecting the stranger. Unlike some people, Sirius wasn’t uncomfortable with being scrutinized, if anything he appeared ecstatic. Remus should have made some small conversation, for Harry’s sake, but he kept staring at Sirius’ ice cream instead. A knot formed in his heart, like the earphones Harry tangled beyond repair yesterday except much, much heavier and instead of sadly amusing Remus, it pained him. 

 

So, he retreated into his mind, his sinking thoughts pulling on the leash they had on him. He held his limp hand out with a napkin for Harry to spit out the almond pieces from his ice cream. 

 

Harry tapping Remus’ leg, after an unknown amount of time later, opened the door back into the real world. Remus looked down at the empty ice cream cup.

 

“Are you ready,” Remus cleared his throat, trying to making it less raspy, “to go, love?”

 

Harry nodded. Setting Harry down, Remus stood up, picking up the cup to throw away, sticking the almond filled napkin in it, and wiped down the table of any messes. He found the small pack of diaper wipes in his satchel and gently wiped Harry’s face clean of chocolate.

 

“Messy boy.”

 

Harry insisted, “Ginny’s messier.” He wanted to be carried again, though from being tired rather than uncomfortable. Curling a fist in Remus’ scarf, Harry used the other to shyly wave to Sirius. 

 

“Thank you for bringing me to ice cream,” Sirius said to Harry. “It was the best ice cream I’ve _ever_ had.”

 

In a tiny voice, Harry mumbled, “Very good chocolate.”

 

Sirius grinned, then caught himself and shaped it into something less intense, more tender. His eyes lifted to Remus and he looked worried. “It was nice seeing you. As always. Thank you for having me.”

 

Remus adjusted his hold on Harry, his mind somewhere else as he said, “Goodbye, Sirius.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * [Lactaid pills](https://www.lactaid.com/products/fast-act-chewables)  
> help with lactose intolerance 
> 
> up next on monday: Remus and Sirius get in an argument


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus struggles and turns 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said they'd argue but I put that off to the next chapter, sorry!  
> **Tw: March 10th has some grieving
> 
> [Harry's shirt](https://ind5.ccio.co/FB/g/F3/73746512618279306xrNMPLPAc.jpg)   
> 

_February 28th, 2015_

 

“Ice cream was good last weekend, right?” 

 

In the rearview mirror, Harry nodded, happily uncaring as he looked out the window. A week had gone by and Remus continued to feel guilty that he had shut down at the table at Fudge's. He always pulled himself together for Harry. But one goddamn ice cream flavor and _BAM!_ Remus dissociated. He’d experienced much worse in the past and kept his cool.

 

The anger was slipping away. It didn’t leave—god, Remus would never not hold that anger and resentment toward Sirius. His feelings were layered, however, and anger didn’t compile all of it. As the rage slipped back under, the raw hurt emerged. 

 

_Teenage dates ambushed, a boy unfairly handsome denying jealousy, a hand gripping his through the funeral service, chasing him down in the rain after Andy’s text of the news, that night before it all, a lively room abandoned and blank in the blink of an eye, pushing everyone away and going through the motions robotically—_

 

A car honked behind them and Remus swallowed, waving his hand up to say sorry. He pressed on the gas, passing the stop sign. At least Harry hadn’t seemed to notice Remus’ downward spiral last Saturday with Sirius. Usually, Harry was unnaturally tuned into Remus’ emotions. He must have been really preoccupied with observing Sirius. It wasn’t that surprising, Harry tended to like the quiet—it was why he and Luna got along so well when they were younger toddlers, preferring to playing alone, side-by-side. 

 

Pulling into the park parking lot, Remus took a few breaths. His stomach felt sick.

 

_That night before it all, that night before, that night, that night, that—_

 

Harry walked alongside Remus, holding onto his pant leg. 

 

“Hewwo,” Harry said to Sirius, peeking out from behind Remus’ legs.

 

_That night, that nigh—_

 

“Hi, Harry. I like your tutu.” Sirius’ voice was so _soft_ and _gentle_ and _tender_ and— _that night, that night, that night—_

 

Harry tugged on Remus’ pants, apparently done with socializing. Remus brushed Harry’s hair down. “Do you want me to bring you?”

 

Harry shook his head. “Watch how fast I am.” He darted off and Remus panicked internally that Harry would trip and fall down the small hill. But he made it in one piece, coming to a stop at the monkey bars. 

 

“Wow!” Remus shouted, acting overly amazed. “So fast, I didn’t even see you!”

 

Encouraged by the praise, Harry ran in eight-shaped loops, entering some fantasy world. Remus saw his lips moving, speaking to some imaginary army or friend.

 

“Are you okay—” _too much, too much,_ “—Remus?” 

 

Why did he have to use the same Harry Voice? Remus didn’t need that voice, he didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t. _Be sharp, be rough, be ragged, be harsh,_ Remus thought, _be detached, be distant, be formal._

 

_Please, use anything but that soft voice._

 

“Fine,” Remus said, curt and clipped. No room— _that night, that night, that night—_ for further discussion.

 

It was time to start thinking about Step Two. Sirius was being accepted into Harry’s world. It was still early on and Harry could turn on him just as quickly as he warmed up, but it was happening. Step One proceeded with success. Now Remus needed to deal with the troubles that came with it, his worries doubling in intensity. Sirius might be entering their life. He might become permanent. He’d want more than one day a week. More than an hour or hour and a half visit.

 

And now the opportunity to abandon— _that night, that night, that night—_ and inflict damage was possible.

 

“Your jaw.”

 

“What?” Remus’ tone came out harsher than he intended. Sirius’ calmness remained unaffected.

 

“Your jaw,” Sirius said, his hand rising and falling, an abandoned attempt to touch. “You always clench your teeth too hard. It hurts your jaw and gives you headaches.”

 

_White wrappers cluttering the dorm floor as hands smoothed band-aids over the bug bites he itched until they bled. Pushing a thermometer into that mouth girls swooned over, that he swore_ he _didn’t swoon over as well. Waking up from a nap to hot soup on his bedside table, a note next to it saying_ feel better _._

 

Remus squeezed his heels together. “I’m fine.”

 

He ignored Sirius’ stare but he was becoming used to that by now. He wanted to take out his phone and text someone but he didn’t want Sirius to see his shaking hands. _That night, that night, that night—_

 

 

_March 7th, 2015_

 

With spring creeping forward—thirteen days away—the clouds parted, the winds lost the ferocity of their roar, and the rain frequented their town less and less. For Harry, this meant a great deal of excitement because he could wear his favorite clothes, which were all short and made for warm weather. Remus had a moment on Tuesday where he honest to god teared up, knowing his days of dressing Harry were coming to a close. James would be laughing at Remus if he saw, but then again, James most definitely would be sobbing. He probably would have grieved every baby step Harry took. 

 

For their weekly Saturday Park Date, Harry fussed over his outfit longer than usual. He chose a hand-me-down of Ginny’s—even though she was a year younger, she was bigger and outgrew things faster—a bright yellow shirt with an elephant stitched on it. The elephant’s trunk extended down one sleeve, making Harry’s arm look like the trunk. It was one of his “mostest favoritest shirts”. He wore knee length leggings that were blue and orange striped. Remus never had to guess what shoes he’d pick—the Lightning McQueen light-up Velcro sneakers. 

 

Coming out of his room, Harry spun in a circle and Remus clapped.

 

“Who knew my Harry was such a fashionista?” Remus whistled and Harry beamed. “What band-aid do you want today?”

 

“Pooh.”

 

“Winnie it is.” Remus, having guessed correctly, picked up the band-aid decorated with the yellow bear and Piglet. He applied it over the fading bruise on Harry’s head.

 

Two days ago, Harry had walked across the top of the couch like a balance beam while Remus went to the bathroom, to show he really was a big boy. Needless to say, Remus had the heart attack of his life. A piece of his soul died for eternity when he came back and Harry slipped, hitting his forehead on the coffee table. Thank god Remus sandpapered those corners.

 

It didn’t need a band-aid but Harry believed any type of boo-boo absolutely required one. Using the pink scrunchie on his wrist, Remus collected the front bangs of Harry’s hair and twisted the scrunchie around it, pulling it back. He had read that scrunchies tugged on hair less than elastic hair bands. Without the baby ponytail, strands of Harry’s curls caught painfully on the band-aid’s adhesive.

 

Remus grabbed Harry’s coat off the hanger by the door, even though Harry insisted he didn’t need it, and off they went. Sirius waited for them at their regular picnic bench. He did a double-take at Harry, and Remus squeezed Harry’s hand harder, protective of his godson’s style choices. 

 

“I saw a cen-peed!” Harry declared, bypassing any greeting. 

 

“Oh,” Sirius said, looking up to Remus in panic for guidance on how to respond. “Uh, that’s awesome?”

 

“Yeah.” Harry nodded and ran off to the playground, making Remus smile in amusement. With such nice weather, more children played at the park and Remus knew he’d be more anxious to keep an eye on Harry. It would be easy to lose sight of him and have something terrible happen.

 

“What’s wrong with his forehead?”

 

“Hm?” Remus sat down. Sirius ditched his leather jacket today, opting for a French-looking black-and-white striped shirt— _is that another place you went? would you rather be in France right now?—_ “Oh. He hit his head. It’s just a bruise. But he likes band-aids.”

 

“No,” Sirius said, his voice sharp for once, so much so, that Remus tore his gaze fully away from Harry. “That—that,” he tapped his forehead, the right side, “the scar!”

 

Remus was so used to it, he never spared thoughts over it anymore. Harry’s hair being pulled up exposed it, with the bruise being on the opposite side. “A birthmark,” Remus lied evenly.

 

“Oh.” The _whoosh_ of Sirius’ exhale was audible. Remus watched Harry intensely, his hand curling around his phone as if his brain forgot that he didn’t need to check for emergency texts. With so many children, Harry further limited his extroversion, inching past groups of kids. “Does,” Sirius hesitated, “do children make fun of…”

 

“Tease him?” Remus assumed. Sirius nodded slowly, looking terrified and murderous at the thought that someone would make fun of Harry. “A kid did once but Harry’s best friend,” Remus loved Ron every since this moment happened, “he called the kid stupid and said it meant Harry was cool because he’s just like Lightning McQueen.” It wasn’t the typical stenciled lightning bolt, but his scar did look strikingly similar to lightning when pointed out—the real kind with several branches extending down.

 

“Who?”

 

“Cars, that Pixar movie.” Remus wanted this conversation to end.

 

He physically felt Sirius light up. “Oh! James dragged us to that, right? Oh my god,” Sirius laughed with his whole body, “he loved all the worst kids movies.”

 

_Cars is a classic, you son of a bitch._

 

Damn, Remus thought to himself, calm yourself. His tender outer skin, ready to strike out with sharp claws, was all the more reason for him to keep his trap shut.

 

“You know, we could play twenty questions or something,” Sirius suggested. He tapped his fingers against his thigh and Remus found that the movement overwhelmed him. 

 

Harry claimed a piece of territory under the play structure, in the shade, and built small hills of sand. 

 

“So,” Sirius tried for conversation again, “um, what’s a ‘cen-pee'?”

 

Grabbing a small stick, Harry stabbed it into the middle of his sand hill.

 

Remus translated, “Centipede.” 

 

“Babies are so useless, isn’t that mind-blowing?” Sirius’ good mood bounded in every direction without warning. “Other animals, they come out and they’re ready to go, they can walk and shit. But human babies have nothing! They can’t even hold their heads up. Without us, they’d die. Isn’t that so weird?”

 

Remus looked at Sirius with _what-the-fuck_ eyebrows. A child screamed, too late Remus realized, from laughter, and he half-rose out of his seat in panic, even though he knew it wasn’t Harry.

 

Sirius pulled his black backpack out from under the bench, next to Remus’ feet. Unzipping it, he blabbed, “What are you doing for your birthday? Can I—”

 

“I’m,” Remus fully stood up, tripping slightly, “going to bring Harry his shovel and pail to play with.”

 

—

 

Remus checked Facebook, he knew two separate messages would be waiting for him. He should have known there’d be a third.

 

_Would you be okay meeting up with me alone again? I’m free any time except 2:30—5:30 on Mondays and Wednesdays. Plus there’s the four-hour drive. I just want to know more about Harry, I really, really don’t want to fuck this up. I’m hoping you can tell me more about dos and don’ts and shit. I’d be so grateful, Remus. And I am so grateful already. Please know that._

 

 

_March 10th, 2015_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday at four thirteen a.m. and stared at the ceiling, knowing but not feeling how it was a privilege. 

 

_“Get up birthday bastard! We got presents and love! Wake up!”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and stared at his red-flushed skin from the shower, thinking about how the color looked similar to a certain person’s hair. 

 

_“Wakey wakey, eggs and bake-y, love. James is itching to show you his present for you and you’re not allowed to wallow today. Everyone's promised not to say_ his _name for the day.”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and sat dressed on his bed, pretending to not hear Harry _shh-ing_ Em to be quiet as they made breakfast in the kitchen.

 

_“Be quiet you stupid assholes! Let my Moons—not my Moons, you know what I mean Pete, let our Moony sleep in, for fuck’s sake.”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and ate the stack of pancakes cooked with M&Ms, a bouncing toddler in his lap singing Happy Birthday.

 

_“Happy birthday to you, you live with the Marauder crew, you look like a Snivellus, and you smell like one, too!”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and hugged Molly as desperately as she held him, the closest he felt to be being hugged by a mother in years.

 

_“James and Sirius are waiting to give you your eighteen birthday punches but I’ll give you The Pettigrew Special Hugs instead—on the house.”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and greeted his students, smiling at the wrinkled birthday card the parents organized for all his kids to sign with love. 

 

_“Ooh, lady-killer, er, I mean person-killer, Remus at it again! Look at all these birthday cards—I think Sirius ripped up Mary’s though, the stupid shit.”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and obsessively checked his phone for texts at work, grateful that Molly sent him updates on Harry’s well-being.

 

_“I guess it’s just us today, huh Harry? You’re very quiet today, aren’t you? Yeah. Me too.”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and picked Harry up from daycare, covering Harry’s face in kisses in thanks for the butterfly painting he made.

 

_“I know, uh, it’s not much but I wanted to get you something, uh, special, Moony. It’s just, I know you used to have those glow and the dark stars in your bedroom, and um, I thought I could paint stars above your bed here. I’m no James, but Lily said it looks good. That’s me, right there—see, Canis Major.”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and refused a dinner celebration as always, unsurprised when he found a stack of small presents in his shower with a note taped on the wall prohibiting hot showers.

 

_“Dear, you’re going to have to let us celebrate someday. Arthur and the boys have made a bunch of knick-knacks to give you. You are loved.”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and considered sending _that_ type of text at night, guilt trickling down him for thinking it.

 

_“Not today. It’s not that I don’t want to, but I don’t think it’s healthy. C’mon, grandpa, go sleep in Harry’s bed. I’ll stay up and watch over the house so you don’t have to worry, it’ll be your present. You’re not alone.”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday and tucked Harry into the crook of his neck at bedtime, allowing himself to be proud that there were fewer moments where  he wished he hadn’t lived another year.

 

_“Wake up, Moomy! Wake up, wake up! Happy Buwf-day! I made pancakes!”_

 

Remus woke up on his twenty-fifth birthday. 

 

And sometimes, that alone was good enough.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius has a bad case of putting his foot in his mouth & Em, Molly, and Harry all have different approaches on how to help sort Remus out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * in March 18th, Frozen and Tangled references are made SPOLIERS: in Frozen, a princess (Anna) and a guy (Hans) are "madly in love" for a night and he turns out to be a villain. In Tangled, the male love (Flynn) interest is basically kidnapped and tied to a boat to make it look like he's ditched the princess but he actually really does love her.
> 
> guys!!! it's happening!! the wolfstar ball is rolling!! well, you guys have to wait a few more chapters to see the slow start but I T ' S H A P P E N I N G. some good old angst kicked the ball and now it's going!!! just hold on through this next part (,◕-◕,)
> 
> again, thank you for the support! your comments literally make my day : )

_March 14th, 2015_

 

Hannah, Harry’s daycare schoolmate, was at the park again, being pushed on the swings by her parents. Harry switched their route from going to meet Sirius at the bench to going to Hannah.

 

“Can you push me on the swings, too?”

 

“Of course, love. Whatever you’d like.” Remus missed playing with Harry at the park, but he felt obligated to sit with Sirius. That was seven weeks now, if Remus counted in his planner correctly, of sitting on the sidelines. 

 

“Hi, Mrs. Abbot, Mr. Abbot,” Remus said, nudging Harry over to the open swing. They exchanged pleasantries and chatted idly as they swung their children. Remus tired himself by working to find the balance between pushing Harry—“Higher! Higher, Moomy!”—but not hard enough that Remus would worry about him falling and getting seriously injured. 

 

Hannah lost interest first and Harry quickly agreed that he was bored as well. They scrambled off together for the slides and Remus politely excused himself from the Abbots. With his heart hammering, he made his way to Sirius.

 

An apology waited on the tip of his tongue but he stopped himself—he had no need to say sorry. Instead, he offered, “I’m sure he’ll come see you before we go.”

 

Sirius nodded one of his eager, bobble head nods. “Oh, no, that’s fine. It’s nice that he has friends. It’s just nice to see him.”

 

Sitting down, Remus fidgeted around with taking off his bag, pulling out his water bottle and a thick book. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and tugged on his unruly curls now that they weren’t hidden under a beanie. He fumbled with unscrewing the cap off his bottle and took a swig of water. Opening up his book to a random page, Remus stared at a line of text and said _good afternoon_ to Sirius.

 

“Good afternoon to you, too, sir,” Sirius teased. 

 

Embarrassed, Remus licked his finger tip and flipped the page of his book. Harry and Hannah found big sticks and drew pictures in the sand. It comforted Remus, safety increased in numbers, especially with a second set of caretakers to keep an eye on the kids—a buddy system. For a moment, hollowness consumed him and, thoughtlessly, he looked to Sirius, even though Sirius couldn’t have heard his thought. 

 

Sirius smiled like he had a thousand of these smiles for Remus at the ready, on the rare chance he ever looked. His eyes flickered up and down Remus’ form. It was the first time Remus had sat close enough to really see Sirius’ eyes and they looked pale in the sunlight filtering in through the giant oak tree's leaves. Vaguely, Remus wondered what Sirius’ verdict was on the appraising look he had given. Em always said that he dressed like an old man, but you never know when to take Em’s words to heart. She often joked about him being a grandpa no matter the context and when she had made the comment about how he dressed...he had been going through his suspenders phase.

 

Molly liked to call Remus handsome but it was in that motherly way—sometimes she even tried to lick her hand and smooth his hair down. 

 

“Is that his watch?”

 

Stomach plummeting, Remus touched the watch on his wrist. It burned against his skin, melting his flesh, the gold dripping into his blood stream and traveling to his heart, attacking the person and memories it belonged to. 

 

“Yes,” he said. Quietly, he added, “James left it to me.” _Mr. Potter left it to James to give to me when I “needed it most”. It wasn't left for me in the will, James gave it to me after you…_

 

“You always did like time,” Sirius commented. It threw Remus off how open Sirius was to talking of the past—old Sirius would have avoided it like the plague. 

 

Remus shrugged. Minutes and days and dates and years soothed him. It felt like a hobby, keeping track of something for no reason. His tenderly secured watch ticked by, the second hand passing by the Roman numerical six. At night, it would tick by the six again, but the outside context would be completely changed. A comfort that something would remain unchanged no matter what and that a moment you want to change will change. 

 

“Happy twenty-five,” Sirius congratulated. He pulled his backpack out like last week and unzipped the front pocket, revealing an envelope. “I wanted to get you a present, but I didn’t know how well you’d react to that,” he chuckled, basically pointing a giant red arrow at the elephant in the room, “and, um, I thought…I thought maybe this would be better.” He handed the letter over, the paper trembling just enough to be noticeable, and Remus only took it to be done with this horrid moment.

 

_“Remus, please, he’ll listen to you, just a few words. I’d try to forge your handwriting but—” “James, please stop.” “If you’d just try—” “STOP! I’M NOT SENDING HIM ANOTHER FUCKING LETTER! HE’S NOT COMING BACK!”_

 

The envelope trembled a significant amount more as Remus stuffed it into his satchel.Any other advance Sirius might make, Remus would ignore. This was what Remus deserved for trying to be civil this visit. He had even been working up to addressing Sirius’ Facebook message requesting a one-on-one. He should have listened to his handy-dandy flight instincts and continued the cold shoulder.

 

“Moomy! Look!” Harry charged in a circle, holding two sticks on his head. 

 

Reeling his body back, Remus shrieked. “What a scary reindeer!” _Stag._

 

Hannah clapped in delight, her pigtails shaking, and Harry came to a stop, looking especially pleased with himself. 

 

_“S’okay. Not like it matters. He wouldn’t care about a letter from me—no, no, I know. Just he’d rather you or James or Lily. I wouldn’t want to write if I was you, though, either. I get it.”_

 

Remus drank several mouthfuls of water, wondering if he had a granola bar. Sometimes being hydrated and snacking helped him to handle things better. Gave him the energy to hold his tongue.

 

“You’re not secretly smuggling booze in there, are you?” Sirius joked. Remus choked. “Fuck, are you okay?”

 

“ _Don’t touch me_ ,” Remus wheezed, coughing up his lungs. The water went down the wrong pipe. 

 

_How could he say that?_ His brain took a liking to the words, the rhythm of it. _How could he say that how could he say that how could he say that how—_

 

The air between them chilled. Remus scooted back to his original spot, at the far end of the bench, some of his bottom even hanging off of it in an attempt to be farther away. If Harry didn’t have an impromptu playmate, Remus would have grabbed him and left. Even with it being a placebo, Remus untied his sweater around his satchel and tugged it over his head, feeling cold with the atmosphere between them entering the ancient Ice Age. Glaciers thousands of centuries away from melting.

 

The second hand passed by the six over and over, again and again, dragging the silence clockwise with it—ignoring on Remus’ behalf and sulking on Sirius’. Remus chewed on his Cliff bar aggressively. 

 

“Even if he doesn’t talk to me,” Sirius began, “and he doesn’t particularly like me or want to know me.” He leaned forward, twisting his body awkwardly to try and catch a look at Remus’ face like he had done with Harry the first time they officially met. “It’s enough for me. Just this. I mean, it helps so much, you know? He looks so much like them,” his voice dripped with awe, “identical to James. It hurts looking at pictures of James but looking at a picture of Harry—it helps so much. Kinda makes the pain go away.”

 

Again, Remus choked, hacking up his peanut butter bar and re-swallowing it. Dumbfounded, he stuttered, “He’s not some, some kind of—mourning tool! A coping mechanism!” 

 

Sirius frowned, sitting back up rod-straight. “As if you didn’t use him—” _use him!_ “—the same when they first died,” Sirius insisted. His face grew hot. “As if he doesn’t help you now, being a piece of them.” Too late, he said, “And he’s not just a mourning tool to me!”

 

“A mourning tool, for _me_?” Remus chuckled bitterly, incredulous beyond repair. “Are you out of your _fucking_ mind? I was given a one-year-old baby, Sirius,” Remus snapped, his tongue bleeding with how sharp his words were. “If you think I had time to mourn or grieve, you are fucking insane—insane! I was changing diapers, I was staying up all night with a crying child, I was baby proofing, I was making sure he didn’t die, I was looking for better jobs, daycares, planning _funerals_. I never had a single second for myself, everything I did was for _him_.”

 

“Oh,” Sirius spluttered, “and—and—selling the house was in his best interest, too?” Finally finding a subject he could wield in defense, Sirius’ words came out faster. “You sold the Potter house—how could you? James’ childhood home! You don’t think Harry wanted a piece of that? Can you imagine how it was for me to return and go to the only place that was ever a home to me and have some fucking random stranger open the door?" Each breath Sirius took was loud. "I had to charm them into giving me your new address when they have to forward mail to you. How could you sell the only connection to Harry’s father?”

 

A sucker punch straight to the gut. 

 

“You son of a bitch.” Remus blinked away tears, horrified that he was starting to cry. Standing up he took a step back, stumbling over a tree root. “You think I wanted to do that? I couldn’t afford that huge house,” _sitting at a dining table, his head in his hands, his bank account glaring on the computer screen,_ “I needed the money I got from selling it to give Harry a life. Molly was moving, there was a better paying job down here for me, she was all I had, Harry’s only friend—it was a hard choice but the right one.” A gust of wind blew, no doubt making his curls wild. “I’m lucky they left some money for me in their will but most went to Harry and the other to _you._ You saw my house—it’s small and yeah, it’s not nice to your standards, it’s not much, but it—is—something. I’m struggling but at least I can make ends meet for us. Harry is what’s important,” Remus spat, “not a house.”

 

Sirius stood up, stepping forward. His face still red from anger or shame. “Remus—”

 

A battle cry interrupted Sirius’ next words. Anxiety flooded Remus as it hit him that the whole time he hadn’t kept track of Harry. The little boy, so small for his age, ran up the hill to them, barreling right into Sirius’ legs. He hit Sirius’ knees, pushing against him with all his weight, digging his heels into the ground, all his shyness gone. “Leave! You making Moomy _sad_! You making my Moomy sad! Leave, leave,” Harry roared with each push. “I don’t wike you! Leave my Moomy alone!”

 

Sirius stood frozen, the gravity of the situation dawning on his face.

 

Wiping his eyes, Remus softly called, “Harry.” 

 

Harry continued his assault. Remus bent down and wrapped his hands around Harry’s waist, tugging him away. Harry kicked and flailed. 

 

“Harry it’s okay. We’re going.” Remus fought to get a good hold of the squirming child. Juggling him, Remus shoved his book and bottle into his bag, blocking out the outside world. Throwing the strap over the shoulder opposite of Harry, he walked away with the tunnel vision of just making sure Harry was safe, not hitting any tree branches, not tripping, not dropping him. 

 

Harry calmed down by the time they got to the car and Remus set him in his car seat. He made grabby hands and Remus leaned forward, unsure what Harry was asking for. Smushing his hands on Remus’ cheeks, Harry held onto Remus’ face securely. Remus didn’t know if he had ever seen Harry so distressed.

 

“Moomy’s sad. Moomy _hurt._ ”

 

Remus vowed years ago to be as honest as possible with Harry. 

 

“Yes,” he said. “Moomy's hurt.”

 

 

_March 18th, 2015_

 

Molly and Em looked down at Remus with sympathetic faces.

 

They had answered his six p.m. emergency emotional-booty call on a school night, bursting into his house within minutes from each other. Smartly, Molly brought Ron along to occupy Harry. Molly and Em sat down on his white stained couch wordlessly, attentive and reacting in all the right ways to his saga. Molly slapped her hand over Em's mouth multiple times to keep her from cutting in.

 

Remus stared down at his clasped hands. “I haven’t heard anything from him since.” He had preferred to sit down on the carpet so he could see their faces and the coffee table dug into his back. He really should scour Goodwill or Craigslist for an armchair.

 

“Will he come back this weekend?” Molly asked.

 

“Do you want him to come back?” Em asked.

 

Remus took his time thinking. “I don’t know. I won’t take Harry to the park if he’s not going to show, though. I don’t even know if Harry would want to go back. He keeps comforting me randomly, saying ‘no more mean man’.”

 

Molly placed a hand over her heart. “Lord, I love that child.”

 

Em repeated, “Do you want him to come back?”

 

Rubbing his temple, Remus tried to think about it. “No. I wish he had never come back. I wish he had gone from Disappears-Five-Years Sirius to Disappears-Six-Years Sirius.” Em opened her mouth and Molly elbowed her hard. Wearily, Remus went on, “James and Lily would want Harry to have him. They’d want me to have him, too, but they don’t know how fucked up we are now. James, he used to,” Remus cut himself off, laughing softly for a second before remembering reality. The two women exchanged a look. He never reminisced about these things out loud, rarely said those names.

 

To break the minor awkwardness he created, Remus drew his legs up, changing from his previous criss-cross-applesauce position. 

 

“He’s too late,” Molly spoke first. “He’s missed so much and he’ll always be a step behind. There’s way too much. Children,” she said wisely, “grow so fast. Even small Harry grew out of his onesies at rapid speed. You don’t have the time to explain these things to him, too. You can’t shove a block into a round hole.”

 

“And there’s you,” Em said. “I mean, we have no idea what you were like before but even I can tell you’ve changed a lot.” Molly elbowed her again but Em pushed on. “I’m going to cut the bullshit with you, Remus, babe. You’re never going to get through this unless you sort out your shit.” Molly, appalled with Em’s tactic, grimaced apologetically.

 

Wrapping his arms around his legs, Remus asked innocently, “What shit?”

 

“Whatever it is between you two. Me and Mols let you carry around all your baggage,” at this point Molly sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead, not bothering to elbow, “and we let you do your,” Em gestured to the air. “But you can’t do that with Sirius or you’re going to fall to shit, babe. Have you even asked why he left?”

 

“Oh yeah, that sounds great,” Remus drawled. “Hey Sirius, you remember that night,” Molly and Em acted oblivious to the hitch in his breath and he loved them for it, “where you made me feel like Princess Anna? Oh, so you _do_ remember, okay, well, pray tell, why did you hightail it out the next morning to another country, Hans?”

 

Remus noticed a discarded, brown apple slice wedged underneath the couch. How exasperated would they be if interrupted this talk by sticking his hand under and trying to grab it?

 

“Dude, you gotta stop watching all these kids movies with Harry. It’s like you talk in Princess riddles all the time.”

 

Molly huffed at Em. To Remus, she reassured, “I think that’s a great example. Which is why I think you should just banish him.”

 

Em rolled her eyes. “Tangled is a better metaphor than mother-shitting Frozen. Maybe he’s Flynn and it makes you _think_ Sirius deserted you but actually, two villains staged it and tied him to the boat.”

 

Remus held his best deadpanned expression for ten seconds. “I highly doubt it,” he said. “Besides, Sirius was on a plane, not a boat.”

 

“Then ask just him!” Em exclaimed.

 

“As if you’d do the same!” Remus bickered back.

 

“I so would. Remember us? I said, ‘Hey, Remus, you think you romantic-like me but it’s only that you love how Harry loves me. This isn’t working out, we’re more brotherly-sisterly type and we’re going to be best friends now. S’ That cool?’,” Em leaned back, spreading her arms wide and accidentally smacking Molly. “Communication. Easy.”

 

Remus fought the blood rushing to his cheeks. Molly, ever the savior, said, “I hardly think Sirius and Remus’, uh,” Molly delicately went on, “ _history_ is the same as the two of you.”

 

Moaning, Remus buried his face in his knees. Something near him smelled faintly of stale french fries.

 

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Molly offered. He physically sensed her urge to come over and comfort him.

 

“No.” Remus lifted his head, shaking curls out of his eyes. “Harry probably destroyed him enough by telling him to go.” Sirius’ face after Harry yelled at him—Remus had only seen that specific face twice before in his life, and both times nearly brought Remus to his knees in secondhand heartbreak. His were eyes so wide it brought all your attention to how extraordinarily light blue they were, displaying the torment and somehow showing you exactly how abrupt that torment came on to him and how much worse that made his suffering. Remus hated the phrase about how eyes were the window to your soul but he always thought Sirius was the exception. His eyebrows went in sad u-shapes and his lips parted like the depression in him was too immense, needing to escape his mouth or he’d explode. His shoulders never curled forward, but his spine did, bending him down—

 

“He deserved it,” Em said, picking at a broken nail. Molly hummed decisively.

 

“Maybe.” Remus sighed. “I mean, he had no right to say those things, but Harry…crushed him.”

 

“You’re defending him,” Em pointed out.

 

“I am not.” Remus curled and uncurled his toes in the carpet. “I’m being rational. Sirius said fucked up things that hurt me. Harry was protective of me and yelled at Sirius to leave. Harry is all Sirius has—he sure as hell doesn’t have me. He hurt me bad, but he’s not my whole world. Therefore, Sirius’ world is more crushed than mine, even if how he views Harry is wrong and unhealthy.”

 

Molly and Em stared at him, exchanged a look with each other, and made an identical face he couldn’t quite decipher. A touch condescending, a pinch pitying, a hint overprotective.

 

Harry interrupted the moment, marching out of his room and up to Remus with a purposeful air. His Superman cape hung over his shoulders. “I pwotect you. No more mean man.” He kissed Remus gently on the nose and marched back.

 

“Kill me,” Em said, swooning backward on the couch. Molly clutched her heart again, having no words, only a smitten face.

 

Remus waited until the sounds of Ron and Harry playing resumed before speaking. “See? Harry’s dead set on believing Sirius is a villain. He’s knocked on the bathroom door when I was peeing to tell me that I’m safe.”

 

“Isn’t that how you see Sirius, though?”

 

“Well—I’m trying to be objective.”

 

“Obviously, he’s a villain in _Remus’_ story. He was the catalyst for the essential tragic past. But is he Harry’s villain? Is he a villain necessarily as a person in general?”

 

Molly and Remus refused to acknowledge the beginnings of Em’s philosophical tangent.

 

“I think you just need a break, honey. Seeing him every week is too taxing for you.”

 

Em snorted. “That’s not going to change anything. What he needs to do is either fucking communicate,” she pursed her lips at Remus, “or accept whatever the clusterfuck happened between them. I don’t know how you dealt with it immediately after Sirius blew shit up but you did a shitty job at sorting your shit out. And now it’s the flip side, instead of leaving, he’s forcing his way in. You gotta grieve.” Em lifted her shoulder in her _I’m-sorry-bud_ way. “Throw a tantrum and ride that shit out. Voilá. Get closure from him or make it yourself.”

 

Petulantly, Remus muttered, “I don’t want to.” 

 

“We know,” Molly said. “It might be good to let it out and take a break from your avoidance tendencies. It took you four days just to tell _us_ about this fight, after all.”

 

“I have no clue what you are talking about. Did you say something? Have you guys been talking this whole time? How did you even get in my house? Who are you people?”

 

Em snorted with laughter, the kind where she breathed in roughly, imitating a pig sound, instead of her “cool” snort where she puffed sarcastic air out her nose. And whenever that happened, they were done for. It was the most hideous, strange pig-snort that shocked everyone into laughter, no matter the situation. 

 

Molly was spurred into giggling like a school girl and Remus chuckled until he was curving forward, shaking silently with laughter. 

 

“S-stop it! You’re ma-making my stomach hurt!”

 

“Me? You s-stop y-your walrus l-l-laugh!”

 

Ron and Harry came running out and were extremely disappointed that there was nothing funny to find. And their disappointed faces sent the three adults into another round of aching laughter, somehow finding it hilarious that nothing was actually funny.

 

“Th-thank you, guys,” Remus eventually got out of his mouth. He took in a big breath of air, finally filling up his lungs. “I needed that. Dang, I really needed that.”

 

“We’re always here for you.”

 

“Whatever, I came for the free food. Do you have ice cream? This felt like a big unrequited love Feels fest and now I’m craving the required sugary frozen cow breast juice.”

 

Remus barked a harsh chuckle. “I _do not_ love him.

 

“And second of all,” he wrinkled his nose, “never say cow breast milk under my roof again.”

 

"What bout cow  _boob_?"

 

Chuckling, Molly heaved herself off the couch, heading for the freezer. “If anything,” she butted in, “he’s in love with past Sirius.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two times Remus accepted the hard truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: in the second half during the flashback, hookups and sex are implied but not detailed. All of it was consensual.

_March 19th, 2015_

 

[10:32] Remus: I need the box.

 

[10:32] Em: I’ll be there in fifteen

 

—

 

Em squinted her eyes as she held the fat, sagging at the corners, cardboard box. “This wasn’t quite what I meant when I said sort through your shit.”

 

Remus held out his arms. The doorstep’s motion sensor light flickered off and he shuffled to make it relight.

 

“I’m not sure I can trust you.”

 

“Emmeline, I’ll be fine.” He crossed an X over his heart quickly and reached out again. After further squinting, she handed it over. 

 

“Alright.” She waited a few seconds and started walking backwards to where she parked her car—badly—on the curb, keeping her eyes trained on him as if she expected him to dissolve into a puddle.

 

—

 

Remus sat on his floor, blinking at the box. He didn’t want it on his bed, so here it sat, on his bedroom floor next to the squished spider stain. The clock on his bed read 12:12 A.M. Remus, being the sad blockhead he was, pulled out the old baby monitor and set it up while Harry was sleeping. Now he had his own Harry reality T.V. live stream in a small white box the size of his palm. A pink sticky note rested on Remus’ pillow with a written reminder to take down the tiny camera in Harry’s room before morning, so Harry wouldn’t know what a freak Remus was.

 

The box by the spider stain possessed no spectacular powers nor looked anything other than a regular brown moving box. For two years, the box haunted him, pushed in the back of closets and garages. The contents inside, Remus had refused to look at for three years before he boxed them up.

 

It was the first favor exchanged between him and Em. He asked her to keep the box in her apartment—he could never bring himself to throw it away—and then she had an IOU from him, able to cash it in whenever she wanted. Some of which were the jealous boyfriend routine, one time occurring at two in the morning. Remus’ last favor was two months ago when he asked her to acquire Sirius’ new phone number via her creepy hacker roommate. The ball now lived in Em’s court and he feared the day she texted him to cash in those three vowels.

 

Giving away the box to her had been so freeing, to not have it exist where he lived or be anywhere within his radius. He hadn’t realized the weight of temptation constantly sitting on his shoulders until it was gone. He had had no self-awareness to how it called to him like a siren. Now, sitting before it, Remus realized and remembered the large scale to which the box tempted and repulsed him.

 

“You can do this, Lupin,” Remus whispered out loud. “You can do this.” An empty Phish Food ice cream carton and spoon lay beside him and a second one waited for him in the freezer. “For Harry.” He’d be smacked on the head for saying that. He should be doing this for himself, to help himself “get better”. But no one was around to hear him.

 

Picking up the scissors, he stabbed the end of the box’s slit, puncturing through the many, many layers of packing tape. The vivid memory of angrily and excessively taping it shut came to mind and his lips twitched up in what might be considered a smile, but a self-deprecating one at that. Sliding the scissor blade across, the box flaps popped open. The inside was an unorganized mess. At the time, he hadn't been concerned with tidiness.

 

He would show these to Harry. But first—

 

But first. 

 

First, he needed to look at them alone. He needed to look at the photos he hadn’t looked at since he was nineteen-years-old, almost twenty.

 

The top layer consisted of the smiling faces of four boys, four boys so happy and at home and free. Who clearly loved each other like brothers. But flipping through, digging in deeper, jumping ahead years, it became clear to any outsider that two of those boys didn’t feel quite so brotherly. Photo after photo, eventually Remus and Sirius always stood next to each other among the four, instead of in a constant rotating variation. Standing next to each other changed to having an arm slung over each other’s shoulders which led to heads resting together and eventually to two bodies attached as one.

 

There were emotional breaks, photos without Remus. Seeing all of them were hard, because they all had Past Sirius, but ones where both of them were in the photos—

 

That was why he needed to have the box as far away as possible. This house was filled with photos of James and Lily but Remus made sure none had Sirius. For himself, to save him from that pain, and for Harry—he didn’t know how he’d explain Sirius, how Harry would react to James’ best friend abandoning him.

 

But there were pictures to help Remus catch is breath. Ones with James and Sirius—the Potter brothers by love—ones of just Sirius himself, some with Peter. Even Fred, Dorcas—Marlene before she chopped off all her dreadlocks in freshmen year! And then Lily started appearing. The two of them in cat naps and in their boxing outfits, drinking god awful tea and cartwheeling.

 

But eventually…the stacks of just the two of them emerged, in their later teen years. 

 

Some taken willingly with cheesy smiles and silly expressions. Some where they realized right before the click and flipped the camera off. Some candid, catching them looking just as friendly as they were with James and Peter. And then there was the series unbeknownst to them, where James and others secretly documented moments between him and Sirius. In one, they sat on the school’s dock, leaning against each other through a sunset, their bodies complete silhouettes. 

 

Remus persevered through it, painfully looking at every single one, digging through and picking out the photos with James with Sirius. He separated the rest to return back into the box. Harry didn’t need all these photos of Remus and Sirius—

 

Remus dropped the pile. He stared. Hand moved out, slowly, scared that it would burn his fingers to ash if he touched it. He picked the photograph up with a painfully still hand.

 

_The room shouted five—four—three—two—one! Remus laughed from deep in his belly as Lily lunged, wrapping herself around James and kissing him fiercely. Streamers popped around him, no doubt getting in his curls. The sudden warmth of hands on his waist pulled him sideways, a warm body snuggling into him, and chapped lips brushed against his cheek. “Happy New Year’s Moons.”_

 

January 1st, 2008. Sirius newly aged eighteen. Remus a few months behind him. Their last semester of Hogwarts. The last year of the Before Era.

 

The photo was blurry and had a bluish-green tinge. Remus’ face is lit up in it, his eyes comically wide and eyebrows up high, hiding behind his curls intertwined with red and yellow popper streamers. Sirius is shirtless from a James dare and his nose curved against Remus’ face from being so close, his pale lips pressing into Remus’ flushed cheek. Sirius’ whole face is relaxed, his eyes closed. The shakiness of how the photo was taken, and the blur, somehow conveyed the feeling they both had felt at the moment—or at least the feeling Remus had assumed Sirius reciprocated.

 

Dropping it back in, Remus buried his head in his hands, his back arching and falling erratically. He tilted his body forward until his forehead pressed into the floor, his nose flattening into the wood like Sirius’ had to his cheek so many years ago. The watery memory of throwing this photo, framed, at the wall and sitting numbly in the broken glass washed up on the shore of his inner eyelids.

 

He sobbed silently—he wouldn’t wake up Harry—crying in a collapsed mess.

 

_I don’t want to ride this out, Em,_ he thought wildly. Because there was no end to this ride.He boarded this roller coaster long ago and the best he could do now was to close his eyes and at least pretend he wasn’t on twisty loops and giant drops.

 

Why didn’t anyone get that opening his eyes didn’t change anything? Not only would he still feel the drops, he would now see how truly terrifying they were. He would see himself pass the boarding station and watch the coaster refuse to stop at it, speeding up past it, damning him here forever. 

 

Most importantly, he would see the emptiness of the car he sat in.

 

 

_March 24th, 2010 Five Years Ago_

 

_James opened the door and his eyes widened. He held his hand out and when Remus didn’t cringe, he touched Remus’ fingers, gently tugging him inside. He took the cushions off their apartment’s couch and pulled out the bed inside it, unfolding it. Remus stood there, spacing out in the air, blinking in surprise when James appeared before him, inches from his face. The bed was made—pillows and blankets that weren’t there before. James touched the hem of Remus’ shirt, helping Remus to take it off. Pulling off his skin-tight skinny jeans was more of a challenge. When they finally freed him from jean hell, Remus crawled into the middle of the bed, curling up, not bothering to get under the covers. It felt a bit better being out of the wrinkled, gross clothes._

 

_“Banana pancakes?”_

 

_Remus shivered, his throat closing up._

 

_“Sorry, that was stupid. How about french toast?”_

 

_Remus didn’t move or speak._

 

_“French toast it is, then. Bon Appétite. Je t’aime. Oui.”_

 

_Staring at a coffee stain on the blanket, Remus thought of nothing. For the first time, his mind was quiet. That was all he had wanted for months, so why didn’t it feel good? His eyes were open but his brain went in and out of consciousness, blanking out for minutes and then coming back. Time went upwards, backwards, and sideways. Remus blinked and suddenly James sat before him, a plate of french toast next to him. James stared at him but didn’t say anything. He looked more relieved than pitying at Remus._

 

_“I did something stupid,” Remus whispered, his voice wrecked._

 

_James brushed a curl from Remus’ forehead. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”_

 

_“You know how I’ve been…”_

 

_A long silence stretched and then, barely audible—_

 

_“Oh, Moony.”_

 

_They sat silently, James brushing his hand through Remus’ hair for long enough that the french toast had definitely gone cold._

 

_Eventually, Remus rasped, “Are you going to tell me I should have saved myself?”_

 

_“No.” James paused. “I wish you could have had a better first time, but I’m not, like, ashamed of you or anything. Or upset or angry. As long as it was your choice…”_

 

_“It was. No need to beat anyone up.”_

 

_James laughed. “Beat up? I would’ve fucking murdered. If Lily didn’t get to them first.”_

 

_Remus puffed air out his nose in a not quite laugh. He sobered up. “No, I went in knowing I wanted to and kept wanting to.” He cleared his throat and moved slowly, sitting up to face James. Quietly, he admitted, “But it was the same as always.”_

 

_“Moony,” James begged, “why do you keep doing this to yourself? Is it like self-harm?”_

 

_No. People told Remus this was how you distracted yourself. Remus thought maybe it would be different. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe Remus would like going to a party. Maybe that guy or girl or person eyeing him up or laughing genuinely at his sarcasm—maybe it would be okay this time. Maybe he would like it. And when it felt like nothing, made an uncomfortable knot in his stomach, maybe, maybe if he kept going he’d learn to like it, maybe it would get better if it went on. There had to be someone else he liked kissing—there had to be. One person after another after another party after another person after a club after a person. Maybe—please—need to need to—can’t—it will work—forget forget—has to—this time, maybe—_

 

_Remus’ bottom lip quivered. “I loved him,” a fish-hook piercing through his heart and reeling it out of his body, through his throat, into the outside where it didn’t belong, pulsing a shuddering beat on the bed like a fish’s last pathetic twitches, “I loved him,” he gasped out, “I love him.”_

 

_“I know, Moony, we all know,” James said sadly, “we’ve been waiting for you to let us in.”_

 

_It had been four months and three weeks._

 

_“I’m s-sorry.”_

 

_“Shush. We just want to help you, Moons.”_

 

_“I’m f-fucked u-up. Ho-ow did I ever think someone could l-l-lo-o-ve m-m-me?”_

 

_James grabbed Remus’ chin, harsher than he usually handled him._ “You are not fucked up.”

 

_Remus cried harder. “You don't know about the last night. Doesn’t matter anyway,” he pushed out the words between sobs, “I’ve gone and ruined myself so even if he comes back, he’ll never want me. It’s good, though. I don’t deserve something good.”_

 

_James threw an arm around Remus’ shoulder, pulling him closer until he collapsed into James’ side. “Breathe, okay? I’m going to kick your ass later for saying those things about yourself but just breathe for now. It’s okay, I’m right here. Breathe. I’m right here with you. Breathe.”_

 

_When Lily came through the door, Remus had calmed down into sad little hiccups. She dropped several grocery bags and gasped. “Oh, god, this is awful.”_

 

_She walked to the pull-out-bed with horrified eyes and moved like she was going to them, only to stop and grab the plate of cold french toast. “What the fuck is this? James, you fucking idiot. Why the fuck would you make french toast. What is this, the medieval ages?” Lily pulled out her phone from her back pocket. “I’m texting Peter to get the good stuff. I’m talking cheddar-fucking-chips, mother-Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Phish Food, whipped cream, frozen garlic bread, sour gummy worms. Peter knows how to bring it on.”_

 

_Lily put her phone away and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Remus’ cheek. “Hello, love,” she said warmly. “We need to draw you a nice hot bath, hm?” She turned to James and gestured to the french toast plate. “Really?”_

 

_Walking into the kitchen, she shook her head in mock disappointment, one hand on her growing belly. James, lovingly watching his fiance, showed Remus a sudden buzz of texts from Peter—various Rage Comic faces. The_ All the Things! _guy accompanied Peter’s text promising all the food he was going to bring._

 

_Remus felt like he could cry all over again._ What would he do without them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **If you found the flashback triggering or the warning at the beginning wasn't strong enough, please tell me! 
> 
> ** Remus says he "ruined" himself but he's just saying it because he's overly upset. Virginity is just a social construct and "losing" it doesn't dirty you or anything. He just thinks Sirius would be turned off if he came back and knew Remus was going around and hooking up, which is partly what Remus wanted. He did this so he'd be "ruined" and could start to move on because in his mind it eliminated all chances of him and Sirius being a thing
> 
> **James asks if it's self-harm because he knows Remus is demisexual/on the ace spectrum
> 
> ah, the good old days of rage faces. this is [All the Things! guy](http://i2.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/140/938/responsibility12\(alternate\).png)  
> if you don't know, the cartoon originally comes from the graphic novel Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh which is a funny/easy read and deals with depression that I'd recommend (I don't think it's problematic but I haven't read it in 2 years)
> 
> since this was a sad ending I decided to update two chapters at once, so the next chapter is much lighter : )


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus shares the photos with Harry and explains who Sirius really is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** I POSTED TWO CHAPTERS AT ONCE, THIS IS THE SECOND, GO BACK AND READ THE LAST ONE IF YOU HAVENT

_March 20th, 2015_

 

In his closet, Remus scavenged through the box filled with recycled containers. Who knew if Harry would want to keep these photographs, but if he did, Remus wanted him to have somewhere to safely keep them. If Harry had favorites, Remus would get them framed. His mother and father were in them, after all.

 

And there were some treasurable ones.

 

Before the twenty minutes of sleep Remus got, he had traced the small smile on Lily’s face, his fingertip covering her whole head and more, in one of his favorite photos. Dancing, Lily raised her hand high and twirled Sirius in their college apartment. One of Sirius’ good moments that year. Remus had taken the picture from behind their giant potted plant, hoping to catch the moment candid. Otherwise, Sirius didn’t like his picture being taken at that time.

 

Remus chose an old tin box with a brightly decorated outside. It originally held cards with images of basic objects and their names listed under—milk, ball, cookie—to help babies learn to talk and spell. Remus had thrown the cards out and kept the container because they confused Harry. The aluminum tin had polka dots, just like Harry’s bed comforter.

 

Sliding the pictures into it, he rearranged and rearranged them to fit in snuggly—some were skinny polaroids and others were long panoramas. Next, he woke Harry and prepared breakfast for them, the only fancy-ish meal he could cook, mostly because he had the energy to do it. They ate in Remus’ bed because Harry wanted to watch Rugrats and Netflix didn’t have that. On his laptop, Remus brought up the bookmarked website that illegally downloaded the children’s show. Harry liked Kimmi best if she was in the episodes and Remus didn’t particularly have a favorite character. He was too preoccupied witnessing how goddamn weird the show was through an adult lens.

 

They both had the Friday off together. The school district needed the schools closed down for the day. Monday, too, would be off for everyone. Remus, however, would be having a full day of teacher conferences. So they dilly-dallied, tossed around the idea of asking Ron over for a sleepover this weekend and if they should make a blanket fort. For lunch, Remus brought out their big picnic blanket and unfolded it outside. While he made sandwiches cut into four triangles, Harry brought out his mini tea set and filled the teapot with apple juice.

 

“Good idea?”

 

“Good,” Harry agreed, shooing away an ant making its way for their dessert Oreos.

 

Remus pulled out the polka dot tin from behind his back and pushed it forward. All morning, he fretted over how he’d answer certain questions, how he’d phrase explanations.

 

Harry slurped from his tiny teacup. “What’s that?”

 

“Well,” Remus said, “do you know how you and Ron love each other?”

 

“Best friends five ever,” Harry declared.

 

Remus sighed internally, knowing Em must have taught him that phrase. Sometimes he really did worry what went on at Molly’s daycare. Remus voiced, “And it’s like he’s your brother.”

 

“Yep.” Harry picked up another sandwich triangle. “We pwicked ouwr fingewrs and squished them, too. Blood bwrothers.”

 

Remus really, really worried what went on at Molly’s daycare.

 

“Yes,” Remus carefully said. “Well, you know Ja—your Dad,” Harry perked up, “and I were best friends, too. Best, best friends. But not all best friends are like brothers or sisters.” Or siblings, but that was a word Harry wouldn’t understand. Vocabulary and more extensive gender lessons could be for a less taxing day.

 

“Why not?”

 

“I’m not sure, love. We loved each other very much and we were very close but…your Dad had somebody who was more like a brother than I was.” Remus wished he had someone holding cue cards behind Harry’s head. Explaining each Marauder relationship was impossibly confusing. There weren’t words for it, they were feelings. Each friendship felt like a different dimension—it was impossible to compare them, no one “better” than the other. Remus attempted it as explaining, “It was like the universe mixed up and had them accidentally separated to different families.”

 

Harry nodded his head. “The stork got confuse-ed. Fred said Ron got dwopped at the wong home, too.”

 

Well, the baby talk was a lesson Remus also needed to write on his list to explain. And kindly tell Fred that implying Ron didn’t belong wasn’t a kind thing to say. “Uh,” Remus struggled to stay focused, “well, you know Sirius?”

 

“It’s o-kay Moomy. We see mean man no more,” Harry comforted, his mouth full of bread. Despite the paper napkins ready for use next to him, a strawberry jelly hand-print was smeared across Harry’s shirt.

 

“Harry,” Remus said gently. “I need to show you something.” He patted the space next to him and Harry crawled forward. Slowly, Remus opened the tin. James and Sirius smiled up at them, baby teeth missing here and there, in their preppy kindergarten uniforms.

 

“Dad!” Harry made grabby hands for a diaper wipe, wiped his hands free of sticky, and picked up the photo to inspect intensely. “Hooz dat?”

 

Under his mother’s reign, Sirius’ hair was cropped short. “Sirius.”

 

“Mean man,” Harry gasped.

 

“Sirius,” Remus corrected. Voicing the name so regularly stung, even though months had passed.

 

“Where you?”

 

“I went to a different school,” Remus said. “Your dad’s school was too expensive—too much money for me.” The summers, though, he and James were thick as thieves; Sirius lived a town away and was banned from visiting James. “Come here, love.” Harry climbed into Remus’ lap, adjusting and snuggling in, leaning firmly against Remus’ stomach. Circling his arms around Harry, Remus picked up a stack of the photos, about seven or ten. Their neighbor’s cherry tree, whose branches snuck over their yard fence, were starting to blossom the tiniest bit. One of the barely unraveled white flowers floated down next to them.

 

Together, they looked at the snapshots of Sirius with Harry’s parents, placing the seen photos on the container’s top and picking up a new stack from within the tin and repeat. Sometimes they said nothing and sometimes Harry reached out to touch. Sometimes Harry asked a question and sometimes Remus told the story behind the picture.

 

“Your dad dared him that he couldn’t hang upside down and Sirius said that he could do it and last longer.” James and Sirius had their legs locked over monkey bars and hung upside down, their faces beet red, Sirius’ more visibly so. The dare was rooted in Sirius’ fear of heights—for some reason being upside down spiked that.

 

“Who won?”

 

“Sirius. He threw up.”

 

“Gross!” Harry said it like a laugh. “Why are theiwr faces wed?”

 

“All the blood is rushing to their head.”

 

“Like you stomach when you eat.” Harry used his intellectual voice, which was Remus’ favorite. He spoke with high importance and like he knew all the answers in the world. And also proud that he knew a fact. “His face was wed when he being mean to you.”

 

“Hm? Oh—oh. Well, you know how Ron blushes when he’s embarrassed? Sirius blushes when he’s upset.”  _Mad_  was a better word for it. They had loved teasing Sirius about it, which wasn't always the brightest idea, but sometimes it distracted and took the fight out of him.

 

Harry grabbed the seen pile and shoved photos aside until he found the one he was looking for. He thrust it up into Remus’ face. Just like the first time, Remus chuckled. James gazed off into the distance at something out of frame, completely oblivious to the photo being taken, with red marker comically drawn on the photograph over his cheeks. Behind him, Sirius made a goofy, overly dramatic lovesick expression.

 

“He’s looked at Mommy.”

 

“Yeah, he’s looking at her. He blushed a lot around your mom. Sometimes people get like that when they have a crush.”

 

They carded through some more.

 

“He and Mommy are fwiends, too?” Harry sounded dismayed. In his hand, Lily held a strand of Sirius’ hair over her upper lip as a mustache.

 

Remus hummed. “She loved him very much.”

 

“Why?”

 

Cupping Harry’s armpits, Remus turned the little boy’s body around to face him. Remus drew his knees up slightly and Harry leaned back against them, his legs going on either side of Remus’ hips.

 

This was the important part.

 

Holding Harry’s small hands in his own, Remus stared into Harry’s bright green eyes. “Sirius was—Sirius  _is_ ,” Remus forced the present tense out, “a good person. He’s very charming. People have always liked him instantly. He’s smart. Learning is easy for him and he likes learning.”

 

“Is he a newrd like you?”  _Godammit Emmeline._ “Miss Weasley says you a newrd.”  _Molly!_

 

Fighting the urge to rub his face, Remus said, “Yeah but he seems like a cool nerd. People think he’s very cool.” So far, Harry was yet to be swayed or amazed.

 

Remus cleared his throat. “Sirius loves playing and having fun.” He ran his fingertips lightly along Harry’s side in an almost tickle. “He liked to dance and dress silly, whatever he felt like, just like you.” Remus tugged on Harry’s bright orange floppy sunhat. “He loved to hug and cuddle. He was very good at making anyone laugh when they were sad. And good at every sport.”

 

He felt Harry waver. “He loved Daddy?”

 

Was this lying? How could something once so simple become so sticky? “He  _loves_  your dad and mom more than anything.”

 

“Uncle Wormy?”

 

Peter played a supporting role in some of the photos. “Uh, yes. Uncle Peter, too.”

 

Harry nodded a satisfied nod. He climbed out of Remus’ lap and looked through the remaining photos quietly. Remus discreetly began cleaning up their backyard picnic, stacking dishes on top of each other.

 

“Grandma.” Remus glanced over and sure of enough, the lovely figure of Euphemia Potter had her arms wrapped up in Sirius, who wore his graduation cap and robes.

 

“Grandma and Grandpa had Sirius come live with them when he was sixteen.”

 

“Why?”

 

“His birth family wasn’t…nice.”

 

“Like Cinderella?”

 

“Yes. They weren’t nice to him. But your grandparents loved him like a son. He and James were brothers.”

 

Harry stared at the photo. Remus wasn’t sure how much Harry understood all of this, of any of their conversation. Abruptly Harry stood up and catapulted himself, jumping straight into Remus.

 

“Moomy,” he said, all limbs and squeezing. “You my Moomy.”

 

—

 

At bedtime, Harry had more questions. The tin box sat on his bedside table because he wasn’t sure yet what photos he wanted. Remus tucked the pink-and-yellow spotted blanket around Harry’s sides, making him into a burrito. He kissed Harry’s forehead, his skin smelling freshly of moisturizer lotion.

 

“Moomy?”

 

“Hmm?” Remus plugged the butterfly nightlight in.

 

“Why you awren’t in the photo? Why is S-we-us mean man to you?”

 

Remus stilled. He came and sat on Harry’s bed, wincing at the creak. He brushed Harry’s curls. “There are photos of us. Uncle Pete, your dad, Sirius, and I were best friends for many years. And then your mom, too. But Sirius ran away a long time ago.”

 

Harry’s bottom lip quivered. “‘Cos of me?”

 

“Oh no, no, baby,” Remus held Harry’s cheeks, stroking his thumbs over the soft skin. “No. He never knew you were born. If he did, he would have run right back home.”  _And he did._

 

Sniffling, Harry said, “I don’ get it.”

 

“I don’t either, love.” Remus smiled. “How about an extra bedtime story and some chocolate milk?”

 

—

 

Group Message

 

[8:42] Remus: I adulted so hard

 

[9:57] Remus: So hard

 

[10:11] Molly: Go Remus!!

 

[12:00] Em: i’m srry, i just cant get over the 1 hour and 15 min btw ur texts

[12:00] Em: like did u rembr again or were u so proud of urself that whole time

[12:00] Em: r u still proud rn r u going 4 a streak

[12:00] Em: i bet my bank account that ur crying and eating phish food rn arent u

 

[12:07] Molly: Stop being a bitch Emmeline and let Remus be proud for fuck’s sake

[12:07] Molly: Also I’m your boss so betting your bank account isn’t saying much

 

[12:07] Remus: Mols!!!!!

 

[12:07] Em: rip


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius gets a big second chance and, naturally, almost fucks it up entirely

_March 23rd, 2015_

 

Remus paced back and forth, hoping to wear down an oval track on his bedroom floor and keep going until he met the earth’s core. He waited a few days since his talk with Harry to gather his marbles. If the world they lived in was a fair one, Remus would be granted a month to gather his marbles. 

 

Unfortunately, he lived on earth and late March only meant one thing—that one thing coming up in exactly four days. So, he was only blessed with a short break to badly bubble wrap his heart before he’d have to confront. Even those few days he had weren’t much of a downtime since Harry sporadically asked Sirius questions.

 

With his time up, Remus entered the last digit and tapped the phone symbol inside the green circle. It took three rings. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Uh, hi. It’s—”

 

“Remus! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing. I’m just calling.”

 

“It’s night and you’re whispering.” Sirius sounded skeptical. "And you're calling me."

 

“I had to wait until Harry fell asleep,” speaking of which, Remus went to the wall farthest from Harry and leaned against it, “and he’s a light sleeper so I have to talk quietly. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong with either of us.”

 

“Oh. Okay,” Sirius whispered back.

 

“You don’t have to whisper. He can’t hear you.”

 

“Oh. Right.”

 

“Well.”

 

“Uh.”

 

“So Harry—”

 

“I’m sorry—”

 

“Oh. You first, then.”

 

“No, no. You go. Sorry.”

 

Remus wasn’t about to play the _no you first_ game. “Well, you said you didn’t want to fuck up and you got a lot to learn, alright? You have to put everything into this, I need you to promise you will not disappear on Harry and I need you to mean it.”

 

“Uh, um, wait, what?”

 

“Your Facebook message. Two weeks ago? You said you wanted to meet up and know the dos and donts? Are you not interested—”

 

“No! No, I am, I am. Sorry, fuck, I just—the fight and you said we couldn’t meet on Saturday. I mean, I’ve fucked it up like six times already, Remus, I just wasn’t expecting this at all.”

 

“Oh. Right, the fight. Forgot about that.”

 

“Look, Remus, I’m really sorry—”

 

“It’s—it’s fine, let’s just. Move on.”

 

“…If that’s what you want. But I understand you’re the…you’re his—you’re the Grown Up and I’m the apprentice or learning. I shouldn’t—I’m not here to judge.”

 

“Uh, alr—I don’t—okay. Okay. Well. Dos and donts, are you ready?”

 

“Yes. Actually—actually can you give me a sec, um, I, uh, want to write this down.”

 

“No, that’s…that’s fine.” Remus slid down the wall.

 

“…got it! Shit, this pen doesn’t work, fuck fuck…Okay—okay, I’m ready. I’m ready.”

 

“Always let Harry approach you first, literally and figuratively. If you have a question, ask me. Remember quiet sounds and sometimes movement, too, especially if you’re new. Don’t make sudden movements he won’t see coming or sneak up on him. Never comment or correct him if he can’t pronounce a word or uses a wrong verb tense…”

 

—

 

“Finally, you have to promise you’re not using Harry. If you want to be in Harry’s life, it has to be because he’s the most wonderful little boy. Of course, you want to know him because he’s their son but there’s a huge difference between that and wanting to be around him just because—he’s not,” Remus yawned, struggling to put it into words. It was so late and the school meetings drained him today. What even were words? What was he saying? “Uh, I won’t let you pressure him…”

 

“No, no, I get it, Remus. I’m going to figure it out, I swear. You just might need to smack me around the head sometimes. In case I forget.”

 

“I can do that,” Remus said bluntly, exhaustion loosening his tongue. Sirius laughed.

 

“I’m sure you can. And you?”

 

“Hm?” Remus yawned.

 

“Dos and donts for you? I’ve obviously stepped on a few bombs. Any tips?”

 

“I, uh…I don’t know. No alcohol jokes. I don’t know.”

 

“Okay, okay, that’s fine. I can just figure it out myself, yeah?” 

 

“Why are you so…so, enthusiastic?”

 

“Enthusiastic?”

 

“Yes. Earnest, eager, exuberant, elated, cheerful, damn I messed up my alliteration, spirited, lively.”

 

“Remus, you need to go to sleep.”

 

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

 

“Your thesaurus is showing, that means you’re dr—or exhausted.”

 

“Shut—up.”

 

“Was that a yawn?”

 

“No!”

 

“Go to sleep. We’ve been talking for…two hours, shit.”

 

“There’s a lot you need to know.”

 

“Yeah, my hand died and went to cramp heaven.”

 

“Why did it go to crap heaven?”

 

“No, _cramp_ heaven, because I wrote so much, because—Remus, you need to sleep. If you need an incentive, the longer you stay on the phone the nicer you are to me out of sleepy delirium.”

 

“That’s true. I don’t like you.”

 

“I’m aware.”

 

“Still weirdly cheerful.” Remus’ eyes focused and unfocused on the calendar hanging by his bed. He thought Sirius said something but none of it made any sense to his half-functioning brain. “Hey,” he said, looking at the red circled date this Friday. “What are you doing the twenty-seventh?—Hello?—Did you hang up?”

 

“I-I’m here. Um. Nothing, uh, I’m not sure. Probably, you know, visiting the cemetery.”

 

“Do you want to spend it with me and Harry?”

 

“What? Wait, really? No, Remus, you’re just saying that because you’re tired.”

 

“Text me in the morning then and ask if I mean it. Now that you have my number. No more fucking Facebook. I hate Facebook.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed you used caller ID this time. Okay. Okay. Thank you. Go to sleep now, Remus. You have work tomorrow.”

 

 

_March 24th, 2015_

 

[2:54] Random Number: Do you still want me to come down the 27th?

 

“What the heck?” Remus stared at the text. The memory of last night came back to him, all the sleepy nonsense. He forgot that he even had that phone call at all. He was supposed to ask if Sirius wanted to meet on Saturday and do something in remembrance with Harry—not invite him to Remus and Harry’s special tradition on the actual date.

 

_Fuck you, sleep-deprived Remus._

 

 

_March 25th, 2015_

 

[5:30] Remus: Can I call you?

 

Remus’ phone rang a minute later. Harry clambered off Remus’ lap and stood up on the couch cushion to be at the same height as Remus’ ear.

 

“Remus?”

 

“Yeah, hi,” Remus said. “So, the committee needs to interview you in order to conclude if you shall or shall not attend Friday.” Harry nodded to Remus, happy with the official wording.

 

“What? The committee?”

 

“Harry.”

 

“He wants to talk to _me_?”

 

“Well, he wants to tell me what to tell you.”

 

“Oh.” Sad but still excited. Remus cringed remembering how he demanded Sirius to explain his attitude. “Well, go on. I’m ready.”

 

Harry tugged on Remus’ shirt. Remus muted them on the phone, knowing Harry’s “whispering” would be loud enough for Sirius to hear. “Ask if he going to be mean to you.”

 

Remus unmuted and put Sirius on speaker phone. “Will you be mean to me?”

 

“No! Not at all. I promise to try my best to never be mean to you—er, Remus again.”

 

Remus muted. Harry asked, “Does he pwromise?”

 

Remus unmuted. “Do you promise?”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Is he lonely?” Harry asked

 

Remus unmuted. “Are you lonely?”

 

Sirius hesitated. “Yes.”

 

“Harry wants to know if you miss Daddy.”

 

“Tell him I say more than anything. I visit him every day.”

 

“You’re on speakerphone. So he can hear you.”

 

Harry tugged on Remus’ shirt again. “That so many. Ask if he brings flowers.”

 

“Do you bring flowers?”

 

“Yes, to him and Lily—er, Mom, Mommy?”

 

Remus stifled a snort. Harry said, “He visits Mommy, too!” Remus chose not to remind him that it was impossible to not visit one without the other, considering the joint headstone.

 

Remus gave Sirius Harry’s final question. “Do you like animals?”

 

“Uh. Yes?”

 

“Alright. Give the committee time to debrief. We’ll text you the decision.”

 

—

 

[6:02] Remus: You have been accepted. Meet @ our house at 9:00 A.M.

 

 

_March 27th, 2015_

 

Someone knocked on the door. Remus swore— _“dang!”—_ and checked his watch. Sirius, unless some random solicitor was at the door, arrived ten minutes early. 

 

“I’m not weady!” Harry stomped, standing in his bright green underwear, looking through his drawers. Clothes littered the floor around them, all outfits he had deemed unworthy. 

 

“You take however much time you need, love.” Remus looked back and forth between Harry and Harry’s bedroom door. 

 

_Don’t leave Harry, don’t leave Harry, don’t leave Harry, don’t leave Harry_ —hard knocks echoed throughout the house. Harry made an aggravated, distressed noise. 

 

“Don’t worry—” _don’t leave Harry, don’t leave_ “—love, I’ll get it. You take all the time. No rush. I’ll be right back, okay?” Remus bit his tongue, hesitated, and rushed to the door.

 

With it being daytime, Remus only had two of the four locks locked. He untwisted them and yanked it open. A fist almost collided with his face. 

 

“Jesus!”

 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you! I was just knocking, sorry,” Sirius babbled. Remus paid no attention to what he was saying, focusing on a blaring detail that sent his parental mode out of control. 

 

Stepping outside, Remus closed the door most of the way, keeping a sliver open to listen in case Harry said anything. “Did you seriously,” Remus hissed, “smoke cigarettes?”

 

Sirius laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not a habit, I swear, it’s just with the day—”

 

“You smell like a smoking factory! Jesus, how many did you smoke? Do you not understand how bad that is for health?”

 

“Wow, Remus, I didn’t realize you cared so much about my health,” Sirius joked weakly.

 

Remus threw all the fury he could muster into his glare, a fairly easy feat. “I’m talking about Harry! Secondhand smoke is deathly. It can cause asthma, respiratory tract infections, heart attacks. It’s _especially_ dangerous for children.” Any health risks for infants, toddlers, and children—you name it, Remus had researched it. He stressed even when they walked past someone smoking. Harry obediently held his breath, if he could, until they were clear of the smoke in those situations.

 

Sirius’ face crumpled. He brushed his hands against his shirt as if that would somehow get rid of the smell soaked into him. “Fuck, I didn’t think—I swear Remus, shit, I’m—what do I do?” 

 

Pinching his nose, Remus ignored the throbbing in his temples. The day hadn’t started and it already tripped into a ditch filled with quicksand. 

 

“Moomy!” A scream came from within the house, closer to them than Harry’s room. “I dwessed!”

 

Sirius had his hands in his hair in panic. Remus opened the door and stepped back inside, seeing Harry passing the kitchen. Earlier that morning, Remus placed his coffee by the front door, so he wouldn’t forget it. Glancing at the coffee travel mug, the coffee still hot from insulation, then to Harry walking to them, then to Sirius, Remus’ brain lit up.

 

Snatching the mug, he said to Sirius, “Think fast.” 

 

He swung the mug from down to up, the coffee flying out in a beautiful dark brown stream, going straight and all over Sirius’ shirt.

 

Sirius squealed. 

 

Huh. Remus thought he’d be pegged as a masochist rather than a sadist but he had to admit, that felt really good. Thrilling. Maybe he should keep hot coffee on his person more often. Harry appeared at the door and Remus pulled him close, subtly moving him away out of breathing range of the smoke smell.

 

“Harry, could you grab a towel from the closet?” The shelved closet Remus removed the door from after Harry got his fingers pinched by it. “I spilled my coffee on Sirius and he’s going to need to shower and change,” Remus explained. Harry ran off and Remus watched to make sure he didn’t trip in his hurry. There was a skip to his step—he liked when Remus trusted him with instructions. It meant he was a Big Boy. 

 

“Ouch,” Sirius winced, “smart thinking but— _ouch_.” He pinched his shirt and pulled it forward, away from his skin. Remus shrugged, stepping out of the doorway and letting him in, hiding a secret smile.

 

“Your fault for smoking. The alternative was me sending you home.” Sirius smiled thankfully and hung his head. “Okay, you’ll shower in mine and use everything generously. I want you to smell so clean it erases my memory that you freaking smoked in the first place. I’ll get you gum.”

 

“Yes, yes, okay. I’m so sorry.” Sirius’ apology reeked with how genuine he was but Remus couldn’t help but be pissed. Cigarettes! He didn’t blame him for smoking—on principal, Remus excused most things on hurtful anniversaries—but if something affected Harry…Remus Hulked out. 

 

_Cigarettes!_

 

Leading Sirius through the house, he picked up the striped beach towel Harry had chosen and left outside his bedroom door. Harry stood inside his bedroom, peeking out at Sirius through a crack in the door. 

 

“Thanks, love,” Remus said. He hated having Sirius invade his space, even the house felt like a violation, and now Sirius entered Remus’ goddamn room. He wanted to say don’t look at anything but Sirius already wasn’t. Remus even dared to say Sirius thoughtfully kept his eyes to the ground.

 

Remus set the towel down on the sink countertop. He gestured to the shower. “I assume you know how to shower. Try and be quick. If your hair really smells, there’s tea tree shampoo under my sink you can use.” And that smelled _strong._ It came from the time he received a lovely visit from lice. Thankfully, and oddly, Harry hadn’t caught a single one on his head even though the lice had come from Molly’s daycare. 

 

“I’ll be really quick, my hair might not be up to its usual standards, but,” Sirius left the joke to hang.

 

“O-kay,” Remus said, pronouncing it like Harry did, with a big space in between. He left, shutting the door behind him and going to Harry, feeling the knot in his chest loosen. “How are you?”

 

Harry wiggled his shoulders in an answer. Remus crouched. “Are you sure you’re okay with him coming? I can send him away right now, no problem. He wouldn’t be upset and I wouldn’t be upset.”

 

Harry sucked his t-shirt collar’s into his mouth and shook his head. Remus gently pulled the shirt out of Harry’s mouth. “I need you to talk, please,” he murmured.

 

“He come,” Harry whispered. 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“And you know the code words?”

 

Harry nodded again. He asked more than said, “You stay close,” 

 

“Of course. I’ll even carry you if you need it. Even if it’s until the very end of the trip.” Remus smiled and Harry tentatively smiled back. “Molly made you a present, do you want to open it now?”

 

—

 

Remus took a sip of his newly brewed coffee, keeping one hand on the wheel as he drove. Every time he drank it and grinned, Sirius sent him an exasperated look from the passenger seat, knowing exactly what Remus was thinking. 

 

In the end, Sirius apparently did take the tea tree option and the minty smell invaded Remus’ nose. Plus, Sirius chewed on mint gum. The fact that Remus loved the smell upset him into an almost sullen mood. Even worse, Sirius had to borrow one of Remus’ dry shirts. It was a tough choice sacrificing his Jurassic Park t-shirt because Remus loved it, but the look on Sirius’ face when he saw it was worth it.

 

Sirius had peed his pants seeing the movie as a kid and remained forever traumatized.

 

Behind them, Harry chewed on the rubbery straw of his water bottle in his car seat. The sweater Molly knitted him had sent him into a beaming mood, and Remus into an adoring but aching one. The knitted brown antlers looked ghostly beautiful against the pale, silvery yarn she had chosen. While he and Harry drew lilies and marathoned kids movies on Lily’s birthday, James’ meant the zoo and watching Brother Bear before bed. Harry insisted that the two moose that he loved in the movie, and cackled over, were stags. If it had antlers, it was irrevocably a deer.

 

Regina Spektor serenaded them on the forty-minute drive to the city. There was a small zoo closer to their house but Remus had researched and this one seemed to treat and care for its animals better. Sirius sang a few lyrics softly, probably hoping to brighten Harry’s opinion on him.

 

Folding Chair came on and Harry’s personality snuck out as he kicked his feet and moved his head side-to-side as he sang. Remus had no idea why he loved singing along to this song in particular. It wasn’t even his favorite. Sirius eyed Remus an intense look that Remus missed as he switched lanes. He exited the highway.

 

_“Now I've been sitting on this abandoned beach for years. Waiting for the salty water to cover up my ears—”_

 

As they came to a red stoplight, Remus gave a mix between a sympathetic look for the constant Regina and a deathly glare of _complain and I will murder you_. The tune of this song also ground on the nerves when listened to a thousand times like he had, so he understood if that was the case. Remus went through a constant cycle of _it’s okay, NO STOP, so done with life it doesn't matter, it’s okay, Regina is amazing!, NO MY EARS STOP._ Sirius’ eyebrows cinched together and he turned his gaze out the window. Feeling snubbed, Remus focused on the route. 

 

—

 

Remus won the paying competition by lying to Sirius and throwing him the keys, asking him to check if they locked the car. While Sirius ran back, Remus went up to the zoo booth and paid for their tickets. He would have bought Sirius’ as well, to be petty, but the fee wasn’t worth it. Sirius, however, just looked at Remus with bright amusement when he came back instead of annoyance, which bothered Remus.

 

They weren’t friends. This wasn’t pre-2010. 

 

He tugged on his bucket hat, irritable, and helped lotion up Harry’s face with SPF 45. He wouldn’t be ridiculous and apply SPF 15—don’t be preposterous.

 

“Makes my face sticky,” Harry lightly whined. 

 

“James never burned,” Sirius unhelpfully piped up.

 

“Whether your skin sunburns or not, you’re still susceptible to ultraviolet radiation,” Remus said, thinking _“I’m not here to judge” my ass_.

 

“UV!” Harry flipped back into a good mood for remembering the abbreviation, though he had no understanding of it. Remus held his hand out and Harry slapped it in a high-five, accepting the praise.

 

“Sunscreen helps to prevent that,” Remus finished. He expected Sirius to be grumpy but he simply said _good to know_ in a humble tone. 

 

—

 

They visited the lions first, Harry’s favorite animal. He held on tightly to Remus’ hand and came close to tripping Remus a few times with how close he stuck to him, but he wasn’t thrown off by Sirius’ presence. Harry’s personality timidly ventured out—a big jump forward when compared to how he muted all of who he was from Sirius the previous times they met.

 

“Lions! I lub dem, I lub dem!” Harry lifted his arms and Remus picked him up, hitching him up higher to get a better look. “They so sleepy.” The male lion with an impressive mane lounged in the sun. “Why do they sleep so much?”

 

“I’m not sure. They usually sleep during the day and wake up during the night. That’s called nocturnal.”

 

“Nah-tuwtle.”

 

Remus smiled. “What do you think they’re dreaming about?”

 

Sticking his tongue out as he thought, Harry eventually came to the conclusion, “Flying.”

 

“Like Beaky?” Remus asked. Harry had whispered to his stuffed blue Pegasus for a good five minutes that morning, apologizing for leaving him behind. 

 

“Yep. I want to see monkeys now.”

 

Sirius quietly said, “They’re this way.” He pointed to the left. Remus almost forgot about him. 

 

They proceeded to the monkeys, then giraffe, and then reptiles— _damn Slytherins,_ Sirius had whispered, referring to their rivals in boarding school—which Harry announced as his second favorite. At home, a printed picture of a small pink snake was taped to Harry’s bedroom wall.

 

Turtles next, then rhinos, bobcat, bear, and koalas.

 

Harry hugged Remus’ leg. “I’m the koala baby.”

 

Rolling his eyes fondly, Remus said, “And I’m the koala mommy.” Sirius covered a laugh with a cough behind them and Remus frowned at him, the intensity of it less so than usual.

 

They meandered around, Harry slowly detaching from Remus and straying, running ahead a bit or walking in a zig zag when he got bored between exhibits. Not too many people shared the zoo with them, giving them good views of the animals and Remus less stress about losing sight of Harry. He adored bringing Harry here and watching his excitement over life and wilderness. For the birthday anniversaries, he liked to make it a balance between celebration and remembrance. 

 

Mostly, this distracted him but his skin always felt rawer than usual and every now and then his lungs forgot how to work.

 

“Thank you for bringing me,” Sirius said.

 

Harry walked a little ways in front of them. “It’s nothing,” Remus said.

 

“No, really. This is…”

 

“Bittersweet?”

 

James had been so passionate about animals, always a muse for his art and a yearning to quit painting and join some wildlife sanctuary. 

 

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed. “Just. Not being alone.”

 

Remus thought about the cigarettes. “I never want Harry to associate them with sadness.” He knew it would always be a hole in Harry’s life that Remus could never fill and the truth in being an orphan would develop more as Harry grew older. “Birthday’s are for celebration. Nighttime is harder.”

 

“Nights are hard,” Sirius echoed, his voice rough. He tucked his damp hair behind his ears. “Uh, you should probably reapply Harry’s sunscreen.”

 

—

 

“I like your sweater,” Sirius told Harry.

 

Grabbing Remus’ hand, Harry tugged him toward the gorillas.

 

—

 

When they took a break to sit down, they bought a pretzel each—Sirius tried to pay but failed—and Remus pulled out an assortment of other snacks from his satchel.

 

Harry munched on two Ritz crackers with peanut butter in-between them. “I like mustarwd, too,” Harry said suddenly.

 

There was a long pause and then Sirius jolted, his mustard packet pushing out yellow goo onto the blue table instead of his pretzel. “Oh—oh, um, do you want some?”

 

Harry’s pause was even longer than Sirius’. He stared intently at the table and then looked to Remus. Remus tilted his head toward Sirius to say _go on._

 

Shyly, Harry nodded and accepted a large piece of pretzel coated in mustard. Sirius looked to Remus and Remus rolled his eyes at him—he wasn’t a validation officer.

 

—

 

They went into the aviary for a minute before Harry got scared when a bird swooped near him. Unfortunate, because Remus had hoped that with enough time, one would poop on Sirius’ shoulder.

 

 

—

 

“Lions again?”

 

—

 

“Why that one nakey?”

 

“What?”

 

“Nakey. There no hair ciwrcle.”

 

“Oh, she’s just a lioness, Harry. A girl lion, she has no mane—no hair circle.”

 

“Nakey.”

 

“Yeah, Remus,” Sirius said, siding with Harry, “the lion’s nakey.”

 

—

 

Harry slept the entire drive home, knocked out to the max, and Remus kept the air conditioning on high. Even during the day’s peak in heat, Harry refused to take off his new sweater. 

 

It felt strange having Sirius riding in the car with him. Remus usually took these moments to feel all the aches and pains. He’d never had someone to share this type of silence with. 

 

When they arrived home, Sirius whispered, “Thank you for inviting me. Anything I’ve ever said about you not being good for him…it’s not true at all. You’re really amazing with him. I’m sorry I lash out at you. I’m working on it.”

 

Remus shrugged. “Thank sleep-deprived Remus. Who, by the way, will never be making an appearance to you again.”

 

“Well, thank him for me tonight, then. And," Sirius smirked, ruining whatever he was going to say next, "I'm lucky to just have had him once.” 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus wants April to end and Sirius desperately wants to play 20 questions

_April 3rd, 2015_

 

Kissing Harry’s cheek, Remus nudged him, telling him to go find Ron and have a good day.

 

Em whistled low. “What’s up with you?”

 

“Just tired. Shouldn’t you be watching kids?”

 

“Eh, Sturgy can handle them for now. You look like sh—”

 

Molly cut Em off, appearing out of thin air and smacking her with a cereal box.

 

Rubbing her shoulder, Em said, “Shelled peanuts, I was going to say shelled peanuts!”

 

Molly pursed her lips and Remus snickered until she turned it on him. “She’s right, you look pasty.”

 

“He always looks pasty in the morning.”

 

“He looks paler than usual, though.”

 

“Maybe. He was overly cheery to Harry, too.”

 

“Not good, not good.”

 

Remus groaned and leaned against the kitchen counter, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “Fine, fine, I feel like shelled peanuts, okay?”

 

“He has a serious ache.”

 

“A what?” Molly asked.

 

“It’s like a ship name. Sirius is giving him headaches, so it’s like a Sirius-ache. A play on serious ache, get it? Cos’ it’s a really bad headache.”

 

Molly asked, “What’s a ship name?”

 

“God, you guys are useless. My genius is wasted.”

 

“This has nothing to do with Sirius,” Remus interjected, reminding the two women he was standing right there. “I’m just tired.”

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Molly and Em said in unison.

 

“April,” Molly tutted.

 

“I like to call it ‘April colon Remus needs A-pill.”

 

“I need a Five-hour Energy if you guys are going to be like this,” Remus snapped, feeling mildly guilty.

 

“ _Oh_ , Five-hour Energy.”

 

“Scratch it. Now it’s ‘April colon Remus _seriously_ needs A-pill.”

 

—

 

As aggressively prying as Molly and Emmeline could be, they were most often right. April had carried stormy clouds into Remus’ body for the past three years and every year he did not heed the pattern telling him it was coming. By May, it usually passed—Molly’s words of comfort during this time were _April showers bring May flowers_.

 

Remus liked pointing out that these moods didn’t nourish seeds of happiness and, in fact, obstructed their growth. 

 

He metaphorically marched bravely through Halloween, the Day-They-Shall-Not-Speak-Of, and Lily and James’ birthdays, keeping himself in tact. Once he made it over the hill, his legs collapsed. Too many days heavy with emotion—the aftermath wasn’t pretty. 

 

One day in April, he’d wake up feeling off. Not bad, not good, just…not right. It felt like the world moved slower, or lagged, and he became aware of all the energy needed for every movement he normally never thought of. Everything involuntary became forced voluntary. He hid it from Harry and his students by exaggerating his normal self.

 

Energy drinks helped. Sometimes poured into his morning coffee.

 

“Uh, Mr. Lupin?”

 

Remus sat up, his head having been firmly planted on his desk during lunch hour, nursing a raging headache and contemplating his top five existential crises. He expected Fred or George’s teacher to be back to complain about the havoc they were creating with their new pranking birthday presents, provided by their soon-to-be-murdered-by-Molly uncles. 

 

Instead, Janey, one of his quieter students, stood in the doorway, one leg crossed behind the other. “Come in,” he said, plastering on a kind expression. “What can I do for you? Did something happen?”

 

She shook her head and crept in. Wringing her hands, she asked, “Can you help me with my numbers?”

 

_Ah_. The other morning he had been thinking about how she’d been doing worse on her multiplication quizzes and homework. “Sure. How about we sit in the reading corner?” Sometimes that helped loosen kids up, sitting in one of the bean bags at the front corner of the room. Shelves of books lined the twelve-feet-by-twelve-feet navy blue carpet square, opposed to the classroom’s regular tiled floor. Remus had Lois sit there during class on bad days because it helped his attention span and rowdiness. 

 

Janey took the green bean bag and Remus sunk into the purple one, pulling it next to hers and bringing a few simple math sheets with him. 

 

Marcus strut into the classroom a few minutes before the bell rang and immediately wanted to know what they were doing. Janey’s cheeks pinked. Remus had noticed that third graders tended to be more competitive than the lower grades. _Stupid_ transformed from a thoughtless schoolyard insult to a loaded label that weighed with shame. 

 

“I needed help choosing what next month’s book should be and Janey kindly offered to help.” Remus hid the worksheets between the bean bags. He wanted to go on and compliment her reading comprehension skills but he knew _nerd_ was an unwanted label as well. “Thanks, Janey. I’ll reward ten points to the classroom’s total.”

 

Janey smiled at him and it didn’t heal Remus’ sadness but he did feel quite honored to be on the receiving end of her rare smiles.

 

 

_April 4th, 2015_

 

Harry had the flu. Harry had the flu in April. Wasn’t flu season supposed to be over?

 

[8:00] Remus: Can’t meet. Harry has flu.

 

[9:05] Sirius: Isn’t flu season over?

 

Remus, even with his identical thoughts earlier, texted back—

 

[9:06] Remus: Flu season is nov-may 

[9:06] Remus: Now shut up leave me alone if u come here to bring soup I WILL stab you

[9:06] Remus: AND YES HE DID GET THE FLU SHOT

 

—

 

Sirius, probably sensing doom if he so much as said anything in response, texted several hours later saying he hoped he and Harry were feeling better. Remus vaguely felt bad for how he snapped, but not too much. He had been up all night with a crying, snuffling Harry and panic-called Harry’s doctor three times for reassurance that they didn’t need to go to the E.R. even though Harry’s temperature was high. He also called the old Potter family doctor two times, just to be sure. And sent Molly fifty texts within five minutes at five a.m. And he still had the shitty April blues, which had transformed from vague _meh_ sadness to agitated grumpiness, mostly due to the enormous effort used to keep his feelings hidden. 

 

“I know, baby, I know,” Remus murmured, peeling blankets off the now too-hot, whimpering Harry. “Do you think you could eat a little bit? Some toast? An otter pop? Watch Cars Two?”

 

 

_April 11th, 2015_

 

A healthy, happy Harry bunny-hop bounced on the sidewalk to the park. 

 

Remus strolled behind. He could see Sirius having an intense conversation on his phone. As they got closer he startled, coming to a full stop, hearing Sirius speaking Japanese— _a menace of a young boy speaking his native tongue and chortling at how uncomfortable it made Marauder enemies to not know what he said, the same boy developing a deadly smirk and refusing to speak anything other than English on the phone with a screeching and scathing woman, two brothers nearly identical and in shouting matches using a language they made up as children and one of the last things shared between them—_

 

Sirius’ body language eliminated any possibility of him talking to his parents and most of his extended family. The non-threatening tension lining his figure told Remus it must be his cousin, Andromeda. He made eye contact with Remus and stared at him for long seconds, his lips turned down and he said something Remus had no chance of understanding, though his nerves worried he was the subject. Peter had always been the best at learning languages whereas Remus fumbled and messed it up. Lily struggled almost as pathetically, which infuriated her but made Remus feel better.

 

“Moomy?” Harry frowned twenty feet ahead of Remus.

 

“Yeah, sorry, Harry, I’m coming.” Remus jogged to make up the distance and smiled reassuringly. Refusing to move, Harry waited for Remus and then reached out and took his hand. Sirius hung up as they approached.

 

“Hello, Harry.” Sirius crouched to be at Harry’s height. “Are you feeling better?”

 

“Good as new,” Remus said, to lower the pressure on Harry having to respond. “Flu monster defeated.”

 

“Em saved me,” Harry added and Remus sighed. Sure, Remus slept four hours total last weekend and slaved away nursing Harry back to health, but Em popped in for thirty minutes and she’s the savior.

 

With Sirius looking a little thrown off, Remus asked if Harry wanted his sand tools. 

 

“Yeah, pwease.”

 

Setting his bag down, Remus took out the various sand molds and shovels. He accompanied Harry to the sand, played a few minutes, and then came back to Sirius.

 

“Who’s Em?”

 

“Emmeline.” Remus yawned. “She’s a daycare worker. She stopped by with a spray bottle and pretended it was ‘Flu Monster repellent’.” Remus snorted, rubbing his eyes, at the memory. An ominous tune started and Remus nearly jumped out of his skin, scaring Sirius, and he quickly searched for his phone, trying to get to it before the lyrics started. 

 

“Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear,” Remus said as he answered the phone.

 

“Oo, you were talking about me?” Em cooed.

 

“Yeah, how you’re an annoying bitch,” Remus said. Sirius made a strangled noise beside him.

 

“What was that? Who’s that? IS SOMEONE WITH YOU? ARE YOU ON A HOT DATE?”

 

“Hardly,” Remus said, standing up and hoping Sirius hadn’t heard. “It’s Saturday. You know, Sirius and Harry meet up day?” He leaned against the Oak tree next to the bench.

 

“Can’t believe you’re cheating on me. An affair! My father always said—”

 

“Goodbye Emmeline.”

 

“NO! I need you. Molly’s trying to set me up with her brother again.”

 

“Fab?”

 

“No, Gideon, GID-E-ON. You always forget. You’re the one who went out with Fab.”

 

“Actually I went out with both.” Remus quickly added, “At separate times! Gideon was before we were friends. He’s very sweet.”

 

“Two affairs! And if I date him and you dated him before and _we_ dated, that’s gross.”

 

“Don’t say incest.”

 

“Incest!”

 

“I’m going to hang up.”

 

“I told Molly I’m dating someone named Linda and if she questions you I need you to swear I’m telling the truth.”

 

“Yeah, I saw Bob’s Burgers was on our Netflix queue. Why do I have to be caught up in this? I can’t lie to Molly. Look at her face.”

 

“Don’t make me use my IOU.”

 

“You’re bluffing. Just tell her no.”

 

“Look at her face!”

 

“Bye, Em.”

 

“Oh my god is Sirius naked?”

 

Remus’ head whipped to Sirius, realizing his mistake even before he saw Sirius’ still clothes-clad figure. 

 

Em cackled. “You gasped! Oh my fuck, do you _want_ to see—”

 

“Go die in a cockroach ditch,” Remus spat and hung up. Pocketing his phone he sat back next to Sirius, grinning to himself. Maybe today would be an alright day, even if it was a Sirius and Harry meet up day. 

 

“And so that’s Harry’s daycare worker?” Sirius asked after a solid three minutes of silence. Remus physically felt Sirius fishing for information. The maybe-alright-day plummeted. 

 

“Yes,” Remus said. He rummaged through his satchel for the bag of seashells he brought, ignoring the expectant pause.

 

“So,” Sirius dragged out the one syllable, “she’s your…girlfriend?”

 

“Aha!” Remus pulled out the ziplock bag, inspecting to see if the sand dollar they found last summer had cracked. “What? I’m not playing twenty questions with you.”

 

Sirius pushed his sunglasses up, pinning his hair back and revealing his too-curious eyes. “I’ll tell you who I was talking to. I saw you stop walking.”

 

_Saying_ from the devil’s dirty vagina _when people asked where he was from, winking at Remus shaking his head and smothering a laugh._ _A woman so distantly familiar looking to that same boy—gone gone gone—but older and more refined, seeking Remus the whole night and finally catching him, apologetic eyes, having no new information either, her small daughter dancing on the wedding dance floor with Lily._ “Andy,” Remus said easily. “Andromeda.”

 

Sirius’ eyebrows rose and his lips jutted out in a put-out expression. 

 

“Now, are you going to help put seashells in Harry’s sand castle or are you gonna harass me until I force you to leave on your stupid motorcycle?”

 

 

_April 18th, 2015_

 

“You haven’t answered any of my texts,” Sirius commented.

 

Remus gently pushed Harry on the swing. Couldn’t Sirius tell how anxious swings made him and shut up? “Been busy,” Remus said, ie. _I am fucking tired and do not care for your texts on useless child information I already know??_

 

Sirius had a great talent for bringing out April: Remus needs A-chill-pill. 

 

“Higher!” Harry squealed. Remus pondered convincing Harry to sit in the safe baby swings.

 

Sirius huffed but Harry captured his attention, causing his face to soften and go gooey, when he giggled and swung his legs. Remus tried to teach him how to keep your legs together and stretch them out when going up and pull them back when swinging down, but his coordination wasn’t spectacular. 

 

Harry didn’t seem to mind Sirius being around him now. He was too shy to interact with him and mostly ignored Sirius, though he felt comfortable being loud and silly.

 

“I was thinking of maybe moving down here.”

 

“What?” Remus’ heart dropped.

 

Sirius shrugged. His jean jacket, a size too small, strained with the movement. “It would make things easier. Maybe,” Sirius glanced at Harry and lowered his voice, “I could visit more?”

 

Two teenagers sprinted up to them and fought over the last swing. Remus worried his lip as he tugged on the metal rope of Harry’s swing, helping to pull it to a stop. Harry slid off to the ground and hurried away from the loud kids. Remus helped soothe Harry’s anxiety by prodding him to the slides and cheering as he went down them.

 

Eventually, he and Sirius ended up back on the bench. Remus pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, checking to see if he made his lip bleed. A tiny red droplet.

 

“It would have to be at the end of May,” Sirius said and twiddled his thumbs. “I’m, uh, taking a child development class at the local community college back home.” _Home,_ Remus thought weakly. A spike of anger sparked. Sirius ducked his head slightly. “I just want to learn more—understand, be better with, uh, Harry. That’s why I’ve, uh, said a few stupid facts. And texted you. The class gets out the second week of May so I couldn’t move until after. But.” He looked hopefully at Remus.

 

“You’re an adult. You can do whatever you want.”

 

“Is there anything I could do that would make you less annoyed with me?”

 

Where was an interrupting Emmeline emergency call when you needed one? “If we’re playing twenty questions,” Remus grumbled, “you get one hard question and you can only use it once. Are you going to use it now?”

 

Sirius’ eyes widened. “No, no, I’ll save it! What’s, uh, what’s, um—what grade do you teach?”

 

Remus groaned inwardly. He hadn’t meant it literally. Give an inch, Sirius takes a mile. “Usually fourth graders but this year I’m teaching third grade.” A big smile broke across Sirius’ face from receiving an answer. Remus begrudgingly asked, “What are you learning in class?”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry declares a lazy day and Remus tries not to fall back into his old self

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated Harry and Neville birthday!!!!!!! I tried to make this chapter fluffier in celebration of the occasion
> 
> here's some silly mood boards I've made and posted on tumblr for this story:  
> [Harry and Remus](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/post/163280267232/ive-been-goofing-around-and-making-these-for-my)  
> [Remus' feelings](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/post/163280389977/also-for-wolfstar-btk-angsty-remus-conflicting)  
> [chapter 20!! just some soft images](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/post/163703036702/oh-ive-loved-you-from-the-start-in-every-single)  
> 

_April 25th, 2015_

 

“No pawrk today,” Harry told Remus moments after he stumbled out of his bed, his baby blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

 

Remus’ toast popped out of the toaster with a _ding!_ “No park?” Hope swirled in his chest. “You don’t want to see Sirius?”

 

Harry walked into the playroom, flopped onto the ground, and rolled sideways so his blanket wrapped him up like a burrito. Lying on his back, he said, “Lazy day. Legos and cookies and juice and no sun!”

 

“No sun?”

 

“No sun,” Harry confirmed and added, “No pawrk.”

 

Remus, bemused, plucked his toast out and laughed a small breath to himself. A lazy day sounded nice, even if it came out of nowhere. “Alright. Let me cancel the park with Sirius and I’ll start making some cookies.”

 

“He come.”

 

Remus slowed his knife spreading butter. Harry rolled to his side, unraveling the blanket slightly, and watched Remus’ reaction. Remus faked a smile. “Okay, I’ll tell him.” 

 

“Only if he nice. If he mean then he leave.” The blanket released Harry from its hold and Harry stumbled over to Remus, coming to pat the back of Remus' knee. “I pwotect you,” he pat, “no mean man.” Then he raised his hand, reaching for Remus’ toast. “Jelly pwease.”

 

—

 

Harry had fallen asleep, using five crayons as a pillow. Remus had left the playroom for forty seconds while he peed and when he came back, Harry was dead asleep on top of his coloring page. He shushed Sirius harshly when he opened the door. _Harry’s sleeping_ , he mouthed. Sirius mimicked putting his finger to his lips and then made the OK hand sign with his thumb and pointer finger making an O. Remus wrinkled his nose.

 

_How are you?_ Sirius mouthed as he toed off his motorcycle boots. Remus glared, thinking Sirius wasn’t trying hard enough to quiet his movements. Harry rarely had impromptu naps—as the months passed, he napped less and less—and Remus felt blessed by whatever he could get. He would very much like to continue feeling blessed.

 

Remus shrugged in response to Sirius’ silent question. Sirius put him in shrug-y moods. Shrugs were a beautiful thing. Remus could create a language in shrugs. A religion, too. 

 

Unfortunately, Sirius was fairly adept as a shrugging interpreter and he his lips turned downward. 

 

_You aren’t sleeping. You have dark circles,_ Sirius mouthed.

 

_Thanks._ Remus took pride in how well his sarcasm carried into mouthing words silently. _What a lovely compliment._ He turned on his heel and walked back toward the kitchen and playroom area. Sirius followed him, padding on bare feet—he had taken his spotted socks off along with his boots. Remus grumbled and mocked about it in his head, envisioning Sirius as having run off to pursue a career as a foot model and now he used any chance to show off his naked feet. 

 

Harry adjusted in his sleep while Remus had been gone and now he curled around the massive crayon box, his blanket flung off. Hearing Sirius come to a stop, Remus readied himself for some indirectly judgmental inquiry such as, _shouldn’t Harry be moved to his bed or somewhere more comfortable?_ Believe him, Remus stressed every time this happened about if he should move Harry but, in the end, Harry slept too lightly and wouldn’t fall back asleep if woken from naps. 

 

Remus turned and Sirius surprised him. Instead of Remus’ assumption, Sirius merely fell in awe and delight at the sight. Remus’ hand twitched, tempted to take a picture and capture the heart-eyed expression, the perfect textbook picture of what someone watching a Youtube video of tiny kittens looked like. Remus ignored the impulse and clenched his hand in a fist, cursing its betrayal of a temptation. 

 

"Can I take a picture?" Sirius made the barest sounds as he mouthed the words, like small barely formed breaths, and he bit his lip as he waited anxiously. Remus’ stomach clenched. It felt too uncomfortable—his mind bled with fast scrambling thoughts and images of Sirius staring at a picture of Harry later at home. The bitter part of his mind wailed about how he didn’t deserve it _didn’t_ _deserve it didn’t deserve it_. 

 

A picture of Lily and James hung right behind Sirius’ head, the two of them being silly on the velvety couches of their common room at Hogwarts boarding school. _Sure_ , Remus mouthed and shrugged. Not comfortable enough to watch, he walked to the kitchen and started peeling a banana. What would they do until Harry woke up? Remus took a bite of his banana, a bit too sweet, and checked his watch. He had to wake Harry in twenty minutes or this nap would throw off his bedtime schedule. 

 

Twenty minutes alone together. 

 

Remus bit his banana a little more aggressively than necessary. 

 

“Remus,” Sirius softly called. He stepped quietly through the playroom, making his way to the shelf displaying various photos. Remus instinctively knew he was drawn to the wedding one.

 

Setting his banana down, Remus made a tiny sound in his throat, cringing as it came out as a whimper, to gain Sirius’ attention. He beckoned Sirius to come back to him. Sirius came over after a long mournful stare at the photos. 

 

_They got married?_ Sirius asked.

 

Remus nodded. Sighing, he held his pointer finger up and quickly went down the hall, unhooked the other wedding photo frame off the wall and hurried back. His eyes went immediately to Harry and he waited to see the rise and fall of Harry’s chest. After sweet relief flooded him, he sat down, positioning himself in good view of Harry, leaning against the kitchen door. He jerked his head to the side and Sirius eagerly took the cue, coming to sit down next to him. Remus scooted over, allowing more space between them. 

 

_Yes._ Remus handed the photo over. Sirius cradled it, eating up the image with his eyes as if it was his first meal in years or his last one. 

 

_Why? When? How?_ Sirius’ face pinched together.

 

Remus blew out a breath. He gestured to Harry. _For the pregnancy. But also for them, too. Sort of jump-started their life._

 

Sirius nodded, at loss for words. He stopped and then nodded again. “Wow,” he said softly. A little self-deprecatingly, he mouthed, _I really missed it all, didn’t I?_

 

Scratching his forehead, Remus resisted the urge to shrug. What a convoluted mess his insides were. He chose to bypass any type of acknowledgment and tapped Lily’s exposed belly. _Seven months_ , he mouthed.

 

_Beautiful,_ Sirius mouthed first. Then, _birth?_ followed by _were there complications?_

 

Ever since he sifted through all the old photos of Sirius, Remus’ head burned in a splitting headache. It was easy to look at Sirius as the person he despised for years. Trying to reconcile who Sirius once was, and what he meant to Remus, and who he was now? All of it, every ounce, was a futile endeavor. It made every interaction devastating—James’ adoptive brother and fiercely loyal best friend was asking about James’ wedding for the first time, five years after it happened. Thoughts like these always led Remus to the friendly reminder that James was dead and Sirius abandoned them.

 

This situation really wasn’t fair to Remus. 

 

His feelings and attitude toward Sirius were sour and angry and hurt. But he hadn’t been in Sirius’ presence for _five years_ and his body naturally went back into Old Remus mode. This moldy, decaying piece deep inside him surged forward, demanding Remus to comfort Sirius. But that path would lead him to pain, agitating how he truly felt now in the present.

 

The truth was—Sirius did miss it all.

 

Beautiful, monumental memories he would never get back. And that was his fault, and not Remus’ responsibility.

 

Something touched Remus’ lower leg and Remus jumped out of his skin. 

 

“Sorry,” Sirius whispered, his voice cracking from finally using it. 

 

Remus shook his head, shaking off the apology. He hadn’t realized how far into his brain he had gone and he peered at Harry, watching him breathe for a good ten seconds. Sirius watched Remus curiously and with concern creased between his eyebrows.

 

_Question?_ Sirius mouthed.

 

Remus lifted a shoulder and Sirius smiled gently. He pointed to Lily and asked, _is she why you call him love?_ He pointed to Harry.

 

_Yeah._  Remus paused. _She hardly even said his name. Other things, too, like sweetheart, baby, darling. I like love, though, because that’s what she always said naturally. But,_ Sirius nodded encouragingly as Remus went shy, _I also say it just because I want him to feel incredibly loved and for him to know without a doubt he’s loved. You know, I thought he’d only have me for a long time._ Remus shrugged. He had openly poured all the love he felt to compensate for the sudden loss of everyone. _And it’s just natural now. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to._

 

Sirius’ eyes scanned Remus’ face and then he asked, _What did James call him?_

 

Remus nearly laughed, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to and that he didn’t talk about these things unless it was with Harry. _He was so stupid. I don’t know. Random objects. Sweet nugget, little light bulb, beautiful misshapen egg head boy._

 

Sirius laughed silently, his body shaking. He shoved his fist into his mouth, swallowing the silver rings he wore. Remus smiled, letting it slip away as he shifted his gaze and blocked out the thousands of memories of Harry’s first year of life and the twenty-one years of James’ quirks and insanity. He tapped the ground between them, the stretch inside his heart unbearable, and mouthed, _I should wake Harry now._

 

Sirius nodded and cocked his head. _Fun, isn’t it? Just like old Marauder days. Lip-reading pros._

 

Remus shrugged, tilting his mouth sideways and downward. His knees cracked as he stood and he ordered Sirius out of the house so they could pretend he just came in for Harry's sake. Kneeling beside Harry, Remus ran a hand down his side twice. “Harry, love, time to wake up. Sirius is here, you sleepy boy.”

 

—

 

Sirius, trying to make conversation, asked, “Who’s your favorite character?” 

 

A useless attempt, truly. Even if Harry loved you—this was Cars that they were watching. You didn’t talk during _Cars._

 

“Lightning and Mater,” Remus whispered and jerked his head toward Harry, who was snuggled closely into his left side. To Remus’ far-but-not-far-enough right, Sirius lied stomach down, head resting on his hands, in their blanket fort. They pulled the curtains open and sunlight filtered in through the pink and blue sheets overlapping each other, casting a soft light of muted color on them. 

 

_And yours?_ Sirius mouthed, catching onto the no-speaking rule. 

 

Remus refused to answer, turning instead to watch Lightning McQueen transform from a regular flashy race car to a more retro, classy look with white tires.

 

When all the reporters ambushed and pressured Lightning into leaving for the LA race, leaving his love interest behind, Sirius made a distressed sound. Harry sat up, his cheeks flushed from being a little over heated in the fort.

 

“Vewy sad,” Harry said in agreement, looking in Sirius’ direction, though not directly at him. 

 

“How did they know where he was?” Sirius asked in dramatized dismay while still managing to keep the energy level low. His strategy appeared to be pretending Harry wasn’t shy at all and acting like a very watered down version of himself whenever Harry engaged. 

 

To think Sirius’ immaculate memory had forgotten the whole plot from when James dragged them to the theaters seemed odd. Maybe Remus’ talent at reading Sirius like an open book expired, because Sirius’ question seemed genuine.

 

Harry didn’t spoil the answer. He lied back down and wiggled forward against Remus, moving so he could peer around Remus and watch for Sirius’ reaction during the reveal. He spent the rest of the movie like that, mostly. Another certified Harry test—the reactions to and opinion on his beloved movie. Catching on, Sirius made his verbal reactions bigger and his face more expressive. 

 

The race ending was emotional for Remus, as always, and he graciously took Harry’s pitying pats on the cheek. 

 

When the credits rolled, Sirius made a grand proclamation about how that was the best movie ever, much to Harry’s glee.

 

—

 

Remus escorted Sirius to the door. Harry had said his goodbyes safely underneath a blanket, which he called his cave. Permission needed to be granted if you wanted to peek in at him and Sirius didn’t dare ask. Harry had denied Remus from peeking and giggled madly to himself from inside.

 

Tugging on his curls as they walked down the hall, Remus worried about Harry breathing in too much carbon dioxide. He chided himself for not making an opening in the blanket for Harry to have incoming oxygen. 

 

“Thank you for having me,” Sirius grunted as he pulled on a boot. 

 

“Sure.”

 

“I liked the movie,” Sirius went on, putting on his other sock. “I like Doc.” Doc was the grumpy old character, a forgotten and outcasted race car.

 

“Yeah.” Remus shoved his hands in his sweatpants pockets, accidentally sliding the waistband lower and he fussed over pulling his pants back up and tightening the drawstring. “Well. See you next week. I think he’s getting bored of the park, so we might switch it up. I don’t know. We’ll see, I suppose.”

 

“Yeah no, great, I’m great with whatever.” Sirius straightened up, tucking his hair behind his ears in a flustered manner. “Thank you.” At least the excessive thank yous were more favorable than I’m sorrys. “It’s nice seeing you.” 

 

Leaning around Sirius, Remus wordlessly unlocked the two locks and opened the front door.

 

—

 

Four hours later, Remus received a texted photo from Sirius.

[8:36] Sirius: 

—

 

Remus came across the wedding photo when he cleaned up at night, tucked away behind the bananas on the kitchen counter.

 

James wore a ridiculous top hat that he had stolen from an old soccer teammate, a bit of a jokester, and Lily had her hand over her mouth, amusement battling her exasperation—Remus could hear her snort echo in his body. She was dwarfed in James’ tux jacket, snug and small. Goosebumps ran down Remus’ arms, the imaginary chill of that evening washing over him.

 

Sometimes Remus wished they had waited until Harry was born to have the wedding so that Harry could have been there. But he would have been too young to have memories of it, Remus supposed. Missing out on all the wonderful, warm, pink champagne bubbly memories Remus had. 

 

What a wonderful, hectic, charming night. 

 

Biting his lip, Remus allowed himself to be engulfed by all the emotions for once. Thinking about how he wouldn’t have missed that day for the world, he took out his phone and before he could second-guess himself, he opened up Sirius’ contact.

 

[10:06] Remus: Red

[10:06] Remus: He’s my favorite character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red is a firetruck who is a small side character who just wants to water and care for his flowers for fuck's sake (Lightning runs them over at one point). smol bean who is quiet and must be protected and I love him
> 
> I cracked open my old Child Development textbook and thought Sirius would send that pic in a moment of giddiness
> 
> *I've been really tired lately and my updates have been slowing down because of that. I've also been taking a lot of time to reply to comments but I promise I will reply and they cheer me up a lot and I appreciate them SO much. Thank you to everyone who is sticking with me and keeps reading! The support is really nice and I 10000% understand how commenting takes too much energy sometimes so never feel pressured to!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May kindly gifts Remus a good mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the headcanon that Ron has dyslexia. Bedwetting past the appropriate age is found in a lot of dyslexic children, including several of my brothers. Four-year-olds still have some accidents but not every night.

_June 13, 2007  / Eight Years Ago_

 

_“Stop.”_

 

_“Stop what?”_

 

_“Stop staring at me,” Remus huffed, his voice void of any real annoyance. He glanced up from his textbook, proving his point by catching Sirius’ unwavering gaze. Unashamed, Sirius winked and Remus rolled his eyes, his lips turning up. “Just because you are too smart to study, doesn’t mean I am.”_

 

_Sirius snorted. “Please, Moons, you’re going to ace this. We’ve all studied but you’re going to the point of obsession.” After Remus pointedly ignored him, he let out a drawn-out moan. “I am so bored. I’m_ dying _.”_

 

_“How tragic. Remember to invite me to your funeral.”_

 

_Hearing the creaking of mattress springs, Remus assumed Sirius was leaving the dormitory to bug someone else. He was proven very wrong as, seconds later, his textbook was ripped from his hands and a heavy weight dropped on top of him, pushing his torso back onto the lumpy bed._

 

_“Hi,” Sirius said, his forehead pressed to Remus’. Remus thought about how he could now officially say Sirius took his breath away without embarrassment._

 

_“Geroff,” he wheezed._

 

_“Nah, I think I like where I am.”_

 

_“Yes, well—jesus_ why _are you so heavy—you can’t stay here forever.”_

 

_“Watch me.”_

 

 

_May 2nd, 2015_

 

Remus and Harry played Animal Walk on their way to Sirius. They usually reserved it for when they walked home from Molly’s, as a special tradition between them, but Remus was in a good mood today. A _good_ mood. He slept a full ten hours, didn’t wake up once during that time, had no nightmares, and woke up without feeling exhausted or emotionally drained or panicked about Harry being alive. From there he spiraled, upwards for once, into this buzzing, cheerful mood. So much so that it was contagious and Harry caught it.

 

Remus ignored the looks from strangers passing by them as he and Harry dolphin-ed their way forward. This consisted of making a pointed fin with their hands to plant on their forehead and jumping each step forward, pretending to crash through waves. Ten feet in front of Sirius, they brought it to a close with monkey and Remus only dimly worried about Harry falling off his back. He always preferred holding Harry rather than piggyback but today Remus felt _good_. 

 

Harry waved wildly to Sirius, much to Sirius’ astonishment. He even looked over his shoulder to make sure Harry truly was waving to him. “Moomy in a good mood!” Harry said. “Moomy in a good mood, Moomy in a good mood,” he continued to sing—a theme of the past week, creating a wonky tune to accompany random sentences. Last night it was “Peas are mushy green apples, mushy green apples, peas are mushy green apples!” Generally, the more he repeated the phrase, the more enthusiastic he became.

 

Remus turned around once they reached the picnic table and crouched, lowering until Harry’s bottom hit the table top. Harry unhooked his legs from Remus’ stomach and scrambled down to the bench and then the ground. He beamed at Sirius. “Moomy is in a _good_ mood,” he said.

 

“I heard,” Sirius chuckled.

 

“I had pizza,” Harry pronounced it like _petta_ , “for bwreakfast and Luna made me bwracelet,” Harry thrust the colorful beads hanging loosely around his wrist in front of Sirius’ face, “and Moomy in good mood.” Satisfied with his vomited information, Harry ran down to the playground.

 

“Wow,” Sirius said, blinking after Harry.

 

Remus pulled his satchel strap over his head and set it down on the table, taking a seat on the bench. “Yeah,” Remus said, exhaling and inhaling a big breath. Animal Walk left no room for air sometimes, depending on the chosen animal. “He’s in a good mood. Make the most of it.”

 

Sirius switched his attention onto Remus. The top of his hair was pulled back and braided while the lower half remained down. He had ditched his sunglasses today. He squinted from sunlight—his cheek muscles pulled up while his eyebrows drew down, making a dorky expression. “Word on the block is you’re in a good mood, too. So,” Sirius’ lip raised in a half-smirk and Remus cut him off before he could continue.

 

“So _do not_ make the most of it,” Remus finished. 

 

Sighing dramatically, Sirius leaned back. “Alright. You are in a good mood, though. It’s nice to see.”

 

“So,” Remus barreled forth, “Harry wants to play on the slides for, I’d say, fifteen minutes or so and then he wants to go to this small cafe a few blocks away.” Not the Half Moon Cafe—Remus wasn’t naive enough to think gossip wouldn’t spread to Em or Molly from waiters or customers. If someone misinterpreted his good mood as flirting, Remus would bathe in acid. “The table cloth is like a huge piece of paper and they have crayons so you can color on it. You up for that?”

 

“You’re inviting me to lunch?”

 

Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m saying you can have a fifteen-minute visit with Harry or you can tag along and third wheel our lunch.”

 

Sirius tapped his chin, humming. The jokey behavior annoyed Remus, but only mildly so. “I will accept your gracious offer,” he said, “if I may ask a question.”

 

“I’m the one doing you a favor. There’s no world in which I will bargain to spend more time with you.”

 

“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel, Remus.”

 

“Are you sure you want to hear that?”

 

“Good point.” Sirius grinned. “Okay, I accept your invitation. May I ask a question anyway?”

 

Remus paused their conversation to watch Harry, allowing a moment of undivided attention. He scanned the surrounding area for any potential threats—all clear on dubious strangers. “You asked a question last. At my house about the wedding. Several, actually. Technically, it’s my turn.”

 

“Ask away, my dear.”

 

“Alright, then. Would you rather I gouge your eyes out and put it through a Play Doh spaghetti maker or sneak tapeworm eggs into your water during lunch for calling me _my dear_?”

 

“Neither, preferably. Lesson learned, though, by the way. No pet names.” Sirius raised his hands in mercy, grinning even wider, and then rubbed his chin. “I would ask if you carry tapeworm eggs on you all the time or just today because I’m curious that you’re ready to slip them in today’s lunch, but I don’t want to waste my question.”

 

“If I were to answer the question, I’d say I carry them only on Saturdays.”

 

“You know, the mud you’re dragging me through is getting pretty comfy. I wanted a mud facial, anyway.” Sirius sucked his lower lip in, physically holding in the banter he seemed eager to continue. Instead, he reigned their derailed conversation back to the origin. “Okay. Question.” His voice softened. “Why are you in a good mood?”

 

Scanning the playground, Remus distractedly answered, “I don’t know.” Harry waved and Remus returned it. “Don’t get accustomed to it.”

 

“Are all Aprils terrible for you?”

 

“Why do you wear motorcycle gear now?” Remus fired back. Shame and embarrassment stirred inside his gut. He thought Sirius wouldn’t have noticed about April since his attitude toward Sirius was forever grumpy. 

 

“Because I care. Better chances of surviving if I ever get in a crash. To avoid road burn. I’m not a reckless teen anymore, I’ve changed, you know,” Sirius replied easily. 

 

Remus’ eyes flickered to Sirius for a long second. “I know.” He returned to the comforting view of Harry.

 

“You’ve changed, too,” Sirius said.

 

Remus hummed, beginning to mentally check out of their conversation. “And how’s that?”

 

“You really tell it to me when I’ve upset you. For the small, current things, at least.” Sirius said it like getting angry at him was a good thing. “You’re more confident—you just did the most ridiculous, embarrassing things on the sidewalk in front of everyone. Like, really weird. Seriously, Remus, _I_ was embarrassed just watching.”

 

“Thanks,” Remus drawled, thinking about how he should do the work he packed into his satchel.

 

“No, it was bloody fantastic.” Remus scowled to himself at the _bloody_. “It’s adorable. You did it, too, that time I came to your doorstep and when I first saw Harry, months ago. It was…You two are the cutest duo.”

 

“Question. Will you ever learn how to shut up?”

 

“You would lick the sidewalk,” Sirius continued, “in front of a whole crowd without a care if Harry asked you to, or needed you to. But it’s not just that, you—are more sure of yourself,” Sirius gestured a circular motion that Remus wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to interpret. “How you carry yourself. Even without Harry, you still have this—this easy-going confidence.”

 

“Stop doing your probing gaze. It’s creepy,” Remus said. After a silent minute, he mused, “The thing about having a kid is you have to get over a lot of social anxiety, overcome it. It’s not about you.” He shrugged. “You have to go up to the store employee or manager and ask an embarrassing question or stay calm while your kid has a tantrum in public and people turn to watch or throw you glares. Or be scolded by some middle-aged woman for being in the girls’ bathroom because the men’s room had no diaper changing tables. Sometimes, you have to suck it up and do it.” _Kiss the little dignity you have goodbye._

 

Sirius nudged Remus’ foot with his own and Remus jerked away—he wasn’t in that much of a good mood. Sirius looked like he wanted to say something in response, but he bit his lip. “Your turn,” he said.

 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Remus hoped Harry wanted to move along soon. “What’s a random fact about children that I don’t know? You have three tries.”

 

—

 

Harry sat on Remus’ lap, needing a comfort zone, during lunch but he spoke directly to Sirius three times, including complimenting his penguin drawing and asking if he wanted a sip of his milkshake.

 

 

_May 3rd, 2015_

 

Ron unbuckled himself from the spare car seat and Remus helped Harry with his buckles, as he had more trouble undoing the bottom strap. Arthur was in the Weasley household driveway, washing their van. His thumb was partly on the hose opening, causing it to spray wildly at Ginny, who giggled and spun in a circle. Remus helped both boys out of the car and they ran forward to join in.

 

“’Lo Remus!” Arthur said. “How was the sleepover?”

 

Remus shut the minivan door. “Great. Ron was on his best behavior. We ordered some Chinese food and had a dance party.”

 

Arthur removed his thumb and swung his arm up and down, making the water go in an up-down stream. The three children threaded through it. Arthur raised his eyebrows at Remus and Remus shook his head. It was a silent question about if Ron wet the bed and Remus’ confirmation that he didn’t. It baffled both Molly and Arthur, none of the other boys wet the bed like Ron did and even Ginny had stopped completely. Consistently wetting the bed was a huge blow to Ron's self-esteem and he lashed out in grumpiness when it happened, especially if it happened during sleepovers. 

 

Arthur’s face split into a relieved grin and he waved Remus toward the front door, communicating that he’d watch the kids. Remus trusted him. His mind would still go haywire in the background but less so than if anyone else watched Harry. Molly, Arthur, and Em allowed him to combat his anxieties more and feel a touch more confident in reassuring himself. 

 

“Hey Bill,” Remus said as he walked in. Bill ignored the greeting and brushed past him, taking care to make big stomps, with his hair newly cut to an inch long. Remus found Molly in the main guest bathroom, sweeping up the clumps of orange hair on the ground. “The haircut didn’t go well?”

 

Unlike Remus, Molly never was caught off guard or surprised if someone crept up behind her. “Nope.” She twisted around and put a hand on her hip, the other hand holding the broom defiantly. “I don’t understand what the big hullabaloo is about. His hair was getting ridiculous.”

 

Remus shrugged, personally not minding Bill growing out his hair. Not commenting on other people’s parenting, however, was generally a good rule to follow. Unless he and Molly were gossiping or the parenting was dangerously problematic.

 

“Speaking of ridiculous,” Molly said with a gleam in her eyes that Remus didn’t like. “You’re in need of one as well. Nu-uh-uh, no buts. Your curls are in your eyes. You have beautiful eyes, don’t you want people to see them?”

 

“Not particularly.”

 

“It’s getting warmer, you’ll get sweaty. Sit down, I still have my scissors out.” Molly set the broom aside and picked up the scissors, snipping the air threateningly. 

 

Remus pulled his shirt off, not in the mood for itchy hair getting stuck to it. “Alright, alright,” he said, sitting down on the chair. “Not too short! Just a trim.”

 

“Just a trim,” Molly echoed, sounding like it wouldn’t be just a trim.

 

They were quiet for the most part. The window was open, creating a peaceful background music of chirping birds and squealing children and the soft sound of car wheels on gravel. May was one of Remus’ favorite months. 

 

“How was park day?”

 

“Hm?” Remus brushed a clump of curls off his chest. “Oh. It was fine. We had lunch.”

 

A pause stretched. Carefully, Molly asked, “Have you talked to him about…”

 

“No.” 

 

“Remus, I really think—”

 

“No,” Remus said more forcefully. Shifting in his seat, his muscles bunched up. 

 

“If Harry’s warming up to Sirius, Sirius might be here for the long haul, honey. You know I don’t like to push you,” _then why are you?_ Remus thought, “but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

“Molly, stop.”

 

“You’re setting yourself up for an explosion or a, I don’t know what you call it—multiple steps backward. You’ll get yourself hurt.” Molly stopped cutting his hair.

 

“I looked through the photos, _I’m fine_ ,” Remus said, a hard edge to his tone. He smoothed it away—he was _good_ , yesterday he woke up _good_ , things were _good—_ when saying, “You don’t have to worry. I had feelings for him in the past. I’ve acknowledged he’s coming back. It’s whatever.”

 

Molly parted a section of his hair but didn’t cut it. “That’s not enough, I’m afraid. You need to talk about it with him, dear. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

 

“Molly, please.”

 

“I know you don’t forget what it was like when you showed up on my doorstep, but you don’t know what it was like to see it. And when you came crying to me and Arthur,” Remus squeezed his eyes shut, “and all your…anxieties? Mannerisms? They’ve been getting worse again and you should really ask him about why he left.”

 

“I don’t want to,” Remus said, “isn’t that reason enough?”

 

“What about Harry—” And that was a low, low blow.

 

Remus snarled, “ _I will set myself on fire before I willingly ask him_.” 

 

He shoved his weight into his feet and slid the chair backwards, standing up and storming past Molly. In her shock, her hands froze and the scissor blade skimmed Remus’ neck, no doubt leaving some kind of scratch. He snatched his shirt and violently pulled it on as he walked away.

 

Arthur came through the door right as Remus was ready to exit and Arthur’s smile slipped off his face. His eyes flickered to Remus' neck. “Uh, hey Mol? Can you help the kids change clothes? I need Rem’s help outside.”

 

The next minutes blurred past, Remus knew he ruffled Harry’s hair and told him he’d come for him soon. He picked up a replica of an Aztec weapon, not quite sure how long he’d been in Arthur’s locked tool shed where he kept his nerdy history stuff.

 

“She means best,” Arthur said, off in some dusty dark corner. “She gets a bit much, sometimes, I know. I know you know that,” Arthur rushed to say as if Remus had said something defensive. He liked that about Arthur. When comforting someone, Molly gently waited for you to speak; Arthur spoke for you and took the pressure off you having to speak. It was very calming and oddly cathartic. “It’s like,” there was a clatter and an _oh jeez_ and then in a breathless voice, “what was I saying? Oh yes, it’s like she loves so much. A bit too much. Well no, that’s wrong. Her heart is so big and she gives her love in what she believes is the right way. And if it’s not the right way, then it’s too much. ”

 

Arthur came out of the dark. Dirt was smudged over his nose and his hair was a little crazy. He’d probably be the next haircut victim. He pushed his glasses up his nose, a motion Remus had seen a thousand times before in his youth and, horrified, Remus felt his eyes grow misty— _messy hair and lopsided glasses_. 

 

“Have I shown you this photo?” Arthur wiggled past Remus in the narrow space between a poorly placed work table and shelves. Something popped in Arthur, a muscle, as he reached up high for a photo frame. He passed it to Remus. “That’s my Pops and sister.” In the faded Polaroid, Arthur was wiry and goofy-looking in the best way possible, only miniature and with more hair. “And that’s me, of course. When we won the lottery and went to Egypt.” Wistfully he added, “I would love to win the lottery. I’d do the same thing, take all the kids.” 

 

Remus smiled and rubbed his eyes.

 

“Yeah, it’s dusty,” Arthur said and even went to rub his eyes as well in pretend. “Gets in the eye. I should clean it up in here. Molly always nags me to but I just never get around to it.” He and Remus surveyed the heavily clutter room. “Too overwhelming, now, isn’t it? Nah, you don’t have to help me. I kinda like it like this.” He smiled at Remus. “I like your haircut. Bill’s not too happy, I’m guessing? Maybe you should go back in and finish the job unless you like your hair lopsided. If so, I think it’s fantastic.”

 

Remus shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you. I’ll see Molly soon but…maybe you can show me some of your new additions to the collection? If you don’t mind, I mean.”

 

“No, of course not!” Arthur lit up. 

 

A good time later, Remus flipped over a circular object in his hands and said, “I don’t want to ask him.”

 

Arthur nodded, tinkering with something. “You can take your time.”

 

Remus waited until the next words forced their way out of his mouth. “I don’t need to hear it.”

 

“Maybe the answer you think you’ll get isn’t the one you will.” A simple point, not patronizing. 

 

“Yeah,” Remus said in response, setting down the unidentified sphere. Sticky darkness slipped through the cracks in his skull, infiltrating his brain and creating a solidifying coat over it. Suddenly, he was thinking about yesterday and how nonchalant he’d been with Sirius. A tightness pulled in him, bringing his heart and stomach together in a suffocating hold. Why had he acted like that _why did he let his guard down why was he so jokey why was he so stupid stupid stupid—_ and the loop of _Remus, I—, Remus, I—, Remus, I—_ from months ago reappeared. He knew he wasn’t being babied but right now he felt like it and he didn’t like to be babied, he didn’t want to be babied, fuck, they were ten years older than him but the shit he’d been through—he was beyond his years. 

 

Tapping his leg, Remus thought about how he hadn’t checked on Harry in an hour, not including the few seconds they passed by each other in the doorway. 

 

“I think I’ll go check on Mol,” Arthur piped up. “See what she’s cooking. Are you and Harry going to stay for dinner?”

 

Tugging hard on a long curl, Remus said, “I think I’ll just have Molly finish up and we’ll head out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and THEN angst oh how the turnt tables
> 
> i'm trying to move more toward mostly remus/sirius scenes but I saw my niece this weekend and she's exactly Harry's age and I'm so inspired to put in more Harry. I'd just forgotten how random children are at that age it's literally amazing?? for a solid ten minutes she was teaching me how to throw an airplane and then in one sentence she switched flawlessly into telling me she knew how to cut a diamond and recited how to fold up paper to cut one. there were zero reminders for diamonds like where did it come from?? also when I came in the door and saw her for the first time in MONTHS she was completely naked and just looked me in the eye and said 'why am i not wearing pants?' and then left
> 
> ANYWAY pls don't hate Molly and an incentive to keep with me is that next chapter one of the mysteries is answered


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus tries to build thorny walls around his heart and Sirius asks a question that Remus assumed he knew the answer to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double posting again because the chapter was about 1,000 longer than usual [plus it nicely adds drama]
> 
> I'm feeling ¯\\_( :/ )_/¯ about these chapters but I hope you enjoy bc one question is answered!

_May 9th, 2015_

 

“I like your haircut—”

 

“No thank you.”

 

 

_May 16th, 2015_

 

“How are you?”

 

“No.”

 

 

_May 20th, 2015_

 

“Question?”

 

“I heard you the first three times,” Remus said, turning the page of his book, particularly bitter that they were meeting on a Wednesday to accommodate Sirius’ schedule. 

 

 

_May 22, 2015_

 

“Remus John Lupin,” Molly snapped as he attempted to sneak out the door with Percy. “You will come here right now and you will talk to me.”

 

Remus hesitated but his feet already started carrying him over to her—he had to stay alive for Harry, after all. Molly’s gaze softened once he was close enough to her. She took out the children's stepping stool to reach his height and he struggled not to laugh, his mood lightening, as she stepped up. Holding his face in her hands, she studied him.

 

“You’re mad at me for what I said when I cut your hair,” she stated without apology and Remus loved her for it.

 

“I’m not,” he said. Molly raised her eyebrows and he amended, “I’m not mad at you.” She waited, holding his cheeks still. “I’m mad at the situation. I’m mad at myself for shouting at you—mad that he makes me mad. I’m not usually like this.” Remus’ right lip raised under her hand in a self-deprecating smile.

 

“You’re allowed to be mad,” Molly said. “Emmeline and I have bigger fights than that daily. You didn’t hurt me by rightly telling me off. It was just a sting and I’m glad for it. If you keep it in you,” she moved her left hand to his heart, “you’re going to burn yourself out.”

 

Remus frowned. “I’m not going to take my anger out on those I love.”

 

“Impossible not to. I’ve been there when you’ve cried. I’ll be there when you get angry. It’s all the same—you’re in pain. I won’t leave you,” Molly said firmly. “We won’t leave you for it.” She released his cheek and heart, pressing up on her toes to kiss his nose. “Now invite that devil to the barbecue. It’s time for us to meet him.”

 

—

 

Remus waited until recess to take his phone out.

 

[9:45] Remus: BBQ @ Molly’s this Sunday. 1:00. 

 

[9:46] Sirius: Molly?

 

[9:48] Remus: Two blocks straight from Fudge’s and then a right, take a left on Dumble Dr and keep going until you see the weird multi-rainbow colored house.

 

[9:48] Sirius: I’m invited…?

 

[9:48] Remus: 1 o’clock.

 

Equally distressed and proud that he asked—commanded—Sirius already, Remus pocketed his phone and decided to stretch his legs and walk the soccer field’s perimeter.

 

—

 

Sirius officially moved down to their town a week and a half ago and had invited Remus and Harry to check it out three times. Remus responded to exactly none of those texts, which was not unusual. They continued to meet up at the park but their visits only stayed inside that one block of grass and play structure—there had been no more special outings since that lunch three weeks ago. To keep Harry away from boredom, he and Sirius now played together with him for the full hour and a half.

 

This minimized personal contact between Remus and Sirius—no room for questions or jokes or even small talk. 

 

Sirius still tried, of course— _Question?—_ but Remus’ skills at shutting Sirius’ persistence down had sharpened to a fine point. 

 

All this great distancing Remus had built up was now in danger of falling away. Em and Molly had been bugging Remus for forever to meet Sirius and to be honest, he was mildly shocked they hadn’t tried to ambush the park dates. This weekend was the opening they'd been looking for—the Weasley’s always held a big potluck memorial day weekend party in their backyard. The party was the perfect excuse to finally spy on Sirius.

 

Remus wanted to hold off the clash of past and present for as long as he could but it appeared that time was up. 

 

He laid his head on his crossed arms, staring out the window into the velvet darkness that called his name like a sweet croon. It was a cloudy night and so the outside was darker than usual, not having the moon’s muted light. 

 

Was he more disgusted that Sirius was worming into a new aspect of his life, meeting the people most important to him, or was he afraid of his friends’ opinions on Sirius? Or of Sirius’ opinion on his new life?

 

A shadowy figure hopped through the yard. Evenings of pushingHarry in his stroller while singing Little Bunny Foo Foo came to Remus’ mind. The strolling had soothed baby Harry into sleep but for Remus, it drained all that he had. Back then, it had been so soon after and so raw and singing that lullaby wasn’t the same when he had to do all the lyrics, all the strange voices, that his best friends had previously done with him mere weeks before.

 

As silly as it made him feel—it wasn’t a Remus-y thing to do—each evening stroll, he had waited for the first star to appear and make a wish. More than anything, he wished for the isolation, the loneliness, to disappear.

 

A little over three years later, Remus looked up at the sky, space hidden behind gloomy gray, and his heart stirred with the wish to be left alone. 

 

 

_May 24th, 2015_

 

“Ah!”

 

“Ah!”

 

Remus and Em pointed at each other, holding identical plates of frosted cookies. 

 

“I can’t believe you thought you could pass those off as your own,” Em said.

 

“Me?” Remus’ voice went up an octave. “You’re trying to do the same thing! At least mine are artfully arranged.”

 

“F—rick you. Mine are beautiful. I put clear wrap over it, so who’s the one half-butting it now?”

 

“Hey, I can’t cook. You’re just lazy—you have no excuse for buying Safeway cookies.”

 

Em smiled devilishly. “Dad’s here and he brought sweet plantains, so. Check mate.”

 

Harry, who had been twirling Remus’ arm around and lazily climbing Remus’ leg, jumped up and down. “Sweet na-nas?”

 

Remus had to grudgingly admit his stomach came to life at the thought of Manny’s sweet plantains. “I didn’t know your dad was coming.”

 

Em shrugged. “Last minute thing. Probs came to see you, his adoptive son and,” she blew a kiss to Harry, “adoptive grandson.”

 

Just then, Ron spotted Harry and yelled his name. Harry tugged on Remus’ arm and Remus smiled. “Go on. I’ll be right here, love.”

 

An awkward cough came from behind Em and Remus. They turned around to see Sirius shifting on his feet, holding a Tupperware. Scowling, Remus wondered how long Sirius had been there watching them.

 

“Hell—oh,” Sirius said, faltering as Em abandoned them, strutting to the long table and setting her cookie plate down.

 

Remus sighed, feeling a swell of love for Em’s solidarity and also bitterness for her leaving him. “Hi. Uh, so, that was Emmeline.” Remus gestured to her, now across the backyard next to Ron. Harry hugged her and bounced on his tiptoes as he rubbed her soft velvet leggings. His body language screamed delight and comfortability. Em stared them down, or Sirius, smugly. “I’d…ignore her if I was you.”

 

Sirius’ fingers curled around his Tupperware. Squinting to see what Sirius brought, Remus jaw fell slightly open. “You’re kidding,” he said to the Safeway cookies. 

 

—

 

After a crushing hug for Manny, Remus waved a hand to Sirius. “This is Sirius. He just moved here. Sirius, this is Emmanuel, Emmeline’s dad.”

 

Harry ran up during Manny and Sirius’ handshake, coming shyly behind Remus’ legs. “Hi,” Harry said, sticking out a hand to wave, capturing Manny’s full attention. Sirius looked relieved to fall back into the background.

 

“Harry!” Manny crouched forward and slowly swiped his hand behind Harry’s ear. He held out a quarter. “What was that doing there?”

 

Harry touched his ear and grinned, looking up at Remus. Remus smiled back and Harry took the quarter to inspect. “Sweet na-nas?” He asked.

 

“Let’s check out the table,” Manny held out his hand, “I don’t think I’ll find any in your ear.”

 

Harry accepted Manny’s hand and Remus told him he’d catch up later. He watched nervously, forgetting about Sirius until he spoke up.

 

“You don’t have to babysit me.”

 

“I’m not going to desert you,” Remus said automatically. Twenty people, excluding the Weasley clan, milled around and many eyed Sirius with interest. Sirius noticed as well, shifting on his feet, making it hard for Remus to see the boy he once knew, who loved crowds and charming people.“I guess let’s meet Molly.”

 

“Who _is_ Molly?”

 

“She runs the daycare. I moved down here with her.” Remus smiled and waved back to a parent of a former student. He and Sirius stepped into the house.

 

“Oh. So my first impression is pretty important, then.”

 

“You could say that.” Remus peeked into the kitchen and sure enough, there she was, holding a pitcher of lemonade. “Hey, Mols.”

 

“Hi, honey. Can you pull out an ice tray for me? Has the devil arrived, yet?”

 

Remus bit his tongue. “Uh, well. If you turn around, I can introduce you to Sirius.”

 

Molly whipped around, the lemonade sloshing. Her cheeks darkened from embarrassment or anger. Nostrils flaring, she narrowed her eyes and slowly set the lemonade down. Then, like Em, she brushed past them without a word.

 

—

 

“So,” Remus cornered Em and Molly, “you bullied me for months into inviting him over and now that he’s here you’re not even going to say hello?” Remus placed his hands on his hips and ignored Em’s snicker.

 

The two women exchanged a knowing glance and then crossed their arms in sync. 

 

“You’re going to rudely intimidate him, leave me to occupy him,” right now Fred and George were buzzing around Sirius, “and analyze how we interact,” Remus dryly stated.

 

Em and Molly exchanged a look and then raised their eyebrows at him, pursing their lips.

 

—

 

“He’s hot,” Em said later.

 

“Em,” Remus hissed.

 

“What? Someone can be terrible and attractive.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“Love ya, too, babe.”

 

—

 

Remus spun Harry in circles, holding him by his armpits, and Charlie did the same with Ron. They set the two toddlers down and Remus laughed as Harry and Ron stumbled and fell from trying to walk straight. Sirius looked over with an adoring expression—definitely for Harry—as Remus was mid-laugh. 

 

Harry charged back into Remus’ legs, saying _again! again!_ and Bill—who thought Sirius was _super cool, mom—_ caught Sirius’ attention by poking his arm.

 

—

 

“He looks like trouble,” Molly said, shoveling pasta onto a plate and thrusting it at Remus.

 

“Who?” Arthur asked.

 

—

 

Sirius found his way back to Remus, having been trapped by various Weasley’s for over an hour. They sat on the ground, their backs to the fence, and Remus watched Harry play with Ron, Ginny, and Luna. No buffer separated them for the first time in weeks and Remus worried Sirius would unleash all the pent up questions and eagerness. _Dancing, birthday candles, rooftop, chilly library corners, dancing, stomping out cigarettes—_

 

“Would you rather eat only salty food for the rest of your life or sweet?”

 

Remus jolted and his eyebrows knitted together. “What?”

 

“My question. I’ll only ask easy ones, I promise.” Sirius used his soft Harry Voice.

 

Em and Molly were nowhere in sight. Remus bit his lip. “You’ve already broken your promise,” Remus said. “That question is impossible.”

 

Sirius barked out a laugh, surprising Remus. “My sincerest apologies. How about would you rather live in a forest or the ocean?”

 

“Live in the ocean?”

 

“Live _by_ the ocean.”

 

“Ocean.” Remus had to think. “Do you like tigers or lions more?”

 

“Hm. Lions. No, wait—tigers, but don’t tell Harry.”

 

“I’ll shove potato salad in your eyes if you wink again. Your turn.”

 

“Apples or bananas?”

 

Remus shrugged. “Bananas?”

 

They went back and forth, relaxing and getting more personal question by question. Sometimes Remus almost smiled and sometimes Sirius’ answers were unexpected. 

 

“Can I ask a medium question?”

 

“You can ask but I might not answer,” Remus said. 

 

Smoothing hair away from his face, Sirius turned his body more toward Remus. “So, where does he live?” Remus stared blankly. “Did…did you guys have a falling out?”

 

“Who?” Remus asked.

 

“Peter.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's BBQ continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOUBLE POSTED AGAIN, GO BACK AND READ THE LAST CHAPTER IF YOU HAVEN'T
> 
> TW: mourning and mention of alcoholism

_May 24th, 2015 [CONTINUED]_

“Shit, shit, fuck, sorry Bill, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Remus whispered as he dragged Em into a guest bathroom and locked the door shut. He shoved her down onto the toilet seat. “Fuck!”

 

“You’re legit freaking me out. That’s more than I’ve ever heard you swear ever. What the fucking fuck happened? Do I need to get a kitchen knife?”

 

Remus sank to the floor and wrapped his hands around his legs. “Fuck.” He buried his face into his knees and swore more. He listened as Em moved. A gentle touch lifted his chin up. 

 

“We can handle this,” she said, brown eyes steady and boring into his.

 

“He doesn’t know about Peter,” Remus croaked.

 

“Motherfu—”

 

—

 

“I’ll watch Harry,” Arthur promised. 

 

—

 

“So ominous,” Sirius commented, his voice light. Remus heard the underlying tightness it took for Sirius to speak. 

 

Licking his lips, Remus sucked his lower lip in, biting harshly before releasing it. He led Sirius block after block, their footsteps the only sound, until they came to a semi-deserted street. Sirius stumbled as Remus came to an abrupt stop in front of a house destroyed by a fire a few months prior, a breaking frame of what once was. Sitting down on the curb, Remus tucked his feet back against the cement and waited until Sirius sat next to him. Unlike Remus, Sirius stretched his legs out onto the asphalt, placing his hands behind him on the sidewalk and leaning back.

 

“Um,” Remus clasped his hands together. “So. Peter.” How strange, to say his name out loud without Uncle in front of it.

 

“Peter,” Sirius echoed in encouragement.

 

_Black, black, a mass of people dressed in black, retelling the story, the story the story, what happened what happened—_ Remus cleared his throat. An apologetic touch weaved its way into his autopilot stoic voice— _red crescent moons on Remus’ palms from clenched fists, not crying, he knew how to do this, no tears, bloody stretcher._ “Peter’s dead.”

 

A car drove down the street, a group of frat-looking guys with their windows rolled down and heads sticking out, hooting. They shouted _WOO!_ as they passed Sirius and Remus. The back passenger seat boy stuck his can of beer out the window in cheers to them. The car swerved as they turned the corner. Uproarious laughter blurred away. 

 

“He,” Sirius voice wavered, “he was,” Sirius squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, “in the car, too?”

 

Swallowing, Remus shook his head. Sirius’ eyelids opened, revealing feverish blue eyes. “He was it, Sirius. The one who hit them.”

 

“No,” Sirius stood up, shaking his head furiously, “no. You’re lying.”

 

“He was drunk and—” _you’ll try and keep an eye on Wormy? I don’t think there’ll be too much alcohol, but “—_ and it was a mistake—”

 

“No,” Sirius protested.

 

“—the road was narrow and he didn’t mean to—”

 

Sirius shook his head. He clasped his hands around the back of his neck so hard his head shifted down. “No. Peter wasn’t a drunk.”

 

“—after you left—he, he,” Remus ran a hand through his hair, his words coming out faster, “it was hard on all of us and things spiraled and, you know, his family had a history of alcoholism and—”

 

“So, you’re saying this is _my_ fault?” 

 

“No, it was an accident, Sirius, it was around a bend in the road and it’s no one’s fault—” _there was someone supposed to hold the car keys at the door they weren’t supposed to give keys to anyone who was drunk they were supposed to keep the keys they weren’t supposed to give it to drunk people and Remus was supposed to watch him watch him it was his fault_ “—but it happened and he’s gone.” Firmly, Remus said, “He’s gone,” adding quietly, “his grave is six rows ahead of James and Lily’s.”

 

“Traitor. Traitor! I always knew he was a dirty rat and—he killed them, he’s a murderer. It’s not my fault,” Sirius blubbered, running his hands through his hair, “he killed them, he’s not dead, you’re lying! You’re a liar—stay away from me. Stay away—it's your fault. Leave me alone,” Sirius ended hysterically and jogged away, his running form a stagger.

 

Stunned, Remus sat there. In the past, he would have chased Sirius down and Sirius would spit nasty things before collapsing into Remus. The next day they wouldn’t speak of it, being more tactile instead of words. Remus didn’t know the boundaries between them today. He wasn’t in the right mind to comfort someone, either. _Traitor, traitor, traitor,_ his mind sang the words similar to how Harry did with his made-up songs. 

 

Remus pushed himself up, not shaky like Sirius had been but stiff. He paused and spared a glance at the burned home. He began making his way back to Molly’s, his walk changing to a brisk pace and then a run, his thought process restarting—he needed to chase Sirius down. Overwhelming panic consumed him as he became closer, his constant worry for Harry opening like a gaping wound— _Harry, Harry, Harry—_ terrified that something bad could have happened to him. 

 

Sirius zipped up his motorcycle suit by the time Remus finally reached him.

 

“Sirius,” Remus shouted, not knowing what he was going to say, not knowing what he was doing. “Stop! Come back!” He shouldn’t be driving if he was emotional. “You shouldn’t drive, it’s unsafe!” Remus remembered the drunk frat-type boys. "Sirius, don't leave me."

 

Sirius mounted his bike. 

 

“Don’t leave,” Remus said three feet away. “You haven’t even said goodbye to Harry.”

 

Sirius drove away.

 

—

 

Remus spent the rest of the barbecue constantly at Harry’s side, careful not to smother or be obvious, but sure to always have an eye on him. Remus was ready to be at Harry’s side at a moment’s notice. His bladder burned and he kept curling his toes in—a tip he read online once to help control your bladder. He wondered if he would get a bladder infection after today.

 

He talked with Manny, but dodged Em, Molly, and Arthur. 

 

—

 

_Traitor traitor traitor traitor traitor—_

 

_—_

 

_Harry harry harry harry—_

 

_—_

 

_“You’ll watch Wormy, right?”, “You’ll watch Wormy, right?”, “You’ll watch Wormy, right?”_

 

_—_

 

_Traitor traitor—_

 

_—_

 

_Harry—_

 

_—_

 

_Remus was supposed to watch him watch him supposed to supposed to supposed to—_

 

_—_

 

_Harry, harry, harry—_

 

_—_

 

_Freckled nose, antiseptic smell, a round boy, a round face, straw colored hair, beer bottles empty, unanswered texts, bloody stretcher, lost in the dust, lost in the mess, Einstein costume, paper cuts, pointy elbows, shadow puppets, Go Fish master, apple smelling shampoo, ocean sounds, crushed metal, blood—_

 

_—_

 

_Traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor—_

 

_—_

 

_Harry, harry, harry, he needs to take care of Harry, keep him safe, safe safe safe_

 

_—_

 

Harry mumbled something into his blanket, pulled up high to his chin. 

 

“What’s that, love?” Remus put _Where the Sidewalk Ends_ back into Harry’s short bookshelf. It was a recent pick from the public library by Harry—he thought Shel Silverstein’s art was funny.

 

“S-we-us didn’t say bye,” Harry whispered.

 

Remus' breath caught in his throat. “I know, baby,” he murmured, sitting down on the bed. He never lied to Harry and he wouldn’t make an excuse for Sirius. He wasn’t ready to explain the situation, yet, though. “I know.”

 

Harry sucked part of the blanket into his mouth. 

 

“Do you want me to stay in here until you fall asleep?”

 

Harry stopped sucking, thought, shook his head, and returned to chewing the cloth.

 

“Do you want the sea box?”

 

Harry nodded. Inside Harry’s closet, it took a few minutes for Remus to find the baby box that used to clip onto Harry's old crib and play the sound of ocean waves. Supposedly, babies liked it because it sounded similar to being in the womb. He set it up on the end of Harry’s bed frame and together they went through the different modes to find the perfect soothing ocean sound and volume.

 

“I love you so much, Harry,” Remus said, tucking the blanket around him again. “Sweet dreams.”

 

“Night night,” Harry mumbled back sleepily, hugging Beaky. 

 

“Shout if you need me,” Remus reminded.

 

—

 

Pacing his room, Remus allowed the rage to erupt inside him. Harry hadn’t said anything for the rest of the BBQ about Sirius. Remus thought he didn’t care. But apparently he had and he had thought about it all day, not admitting until night, and admitting it so sadly.

 

This was exactly what Remus knew would happen—he _knew_ this would happen. Sirius left and came and left as he pleased. Self-absorbed, unfit to be a large part of a child’s life, erratic, abandoning, selfish—

 

Remus’ phone buzzed. A text from Em lit Remus’ phone screen up, showing the alerts for twelve other texts from her and seven from Molly.

 

Ignoring them, Remus resumed his pacing. Stupid, stupid, annoying, piece of—

 

—

 

Remus flopped onto his bed, too angry to do anything. His stomach growled and dreamed of sweet plantains.

 

Manny—god bless Manny—gave Remus and Harry a plate of them to go but Remus was too mad to eat. _No_ , he told his stomach, _we’re too angry for that._

 

A hunger strike against Sirius that didn’t actually affect Sirius in any way. The logic didn’t make any sense but that didn’t matter because Remus was too angry to move.

 

— 

 

Remus checked and re-locked all the house's locks six times, carrying his baseball bat with him.

 

—

 

Remus set up the old baby camera and cradled the monitor in his hands while he sat outside Harry’s bedroom door, able to see Harry’s sleeping form perfectly.

 

—

 

Pressing his head against the cold tiles of his shower—a comforting space even without the water running—he whispered, “ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ —”

 

—

 

Sitting by the window, Remus tiredly thought about how this was the first time Sirius had left him behind since they reconnected.

 

His energy had sapped, taking his anger with it. Harry had been sleeping for four hours and Sirius had run away nine hours ago.

 

He wouldn’t come back. He wasn’t going to. Why would he? Sirius knew what Remus was now.

 

A reminder.

 

Before, he sought Remus as a comfort, a connection to the past, someone who understood. And Harry was Harry, no explanation needed.

 

Now, Remus was a reminder of death. Not one—not two—but _three_ deaths. 

 

People looked at him and saw three missing ghosts.

 

Sirius would be no different. Remus stunk of tragedy so much so that not even Harry made him stay.

 

—

 

The moon shined tonight, looking far away and small, first quarter and waxing its way to full moon. Harry’s ocean sounds faintly lulled, the crashing waves mimicking real tides. Louder, softer, louder, softer. 

 

—

 

The muffled sound of an engine woke the deserted street and Remus tore his gaze away from the baby monitor. Almost like sleep-walking, Remus’ body moved on its own accord to the front door. His fingers nimbly unlocked the four locks and he opened the door.

 

Sirius halted at the doorstep.

 

They took in each other’s ragged appearances. Sirius’ under eyelids were swollen and red. His chest rose and fell rapidly.

 

Stepping aside, Remus pulled the door open wider and Sirius trudged in. While Sirius took off his boots, Remus locked and unlocked the four locks three times. He twisted the door knob and tested the door, making sure it truly was locked.

 

Sirius followed Remus down the short hallway and he hovered until Remus motioned for him to sit at the counter. Six minutes later, Remus joined him with a mug of tea for each of them. Side by side, they cupped their mugs, using it more as an excuse for warmth, a reminder that they were alive. That they could feel. 

 

When Remus’ eyes drooped lower and lower, his tea cold, he stood up and retrieved sheets from the doorless closet. He set up the couch, taking the back cushion pillows off and tucking in a sheet over the bottom cushions and then a sheet over that and a blanket over that. Then back to the closet for a pillow.

 

Sirius came over once Remus motioned him again. Placing their full mugs in the sink, Remus discreetly watched Sirius settle in, going under the covers in his wrinkled shirt and jeans.

 

Hesitating, Remus stared—the ocean tide out, loud, in, soft—ducked his head, and went to rest in Harry’s room.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a soft morning, a gentle day

_May 25th, 2015_

 

Groaning, Remus pushed himself off Harry’s bedroom floor. Funny, he didn’t remember falling asleep here. The light shining through the window’s blinds indicated it was mid-morning, later than he usually slept in. Harry’s bed was empty, something sizzled outside the room, and the air smelt burnt—

 

Remus stumbled up, heart pounding in his throat, his worst nightmares confirmed, Harry was burning down the house and he was going to die in a fire and he was sitting on the counter while Sirius cooked—

 

Harry sat on the counter while Sirius cooked. 

 

The house wasn’t on fire. 

 

Harry was alive. 

 

Sirius was cooking.

 

Sirius…was in the house. Remus’ house. In the morning. 

 

Remus leaned against the bedroom door frame, trying to make sense of everything. His brain blinked its sleepy eyes open, rebooted, and everything came crashing back in—the barbecue, Peter, the talk, driving away, his freak out, Sirius coming back. 

 

“Do you like eggs?” Harry tilted his head to the side, staring up at Sirius, who stirred a spatula in a pan. Harry wiggled on top of the counter to face Sirius more, allowing Remus to see his sweet, chubby profile.

 

“I love them,” Sirius answered, quiet enough that Remus read his lips more than listened. “I like them fried.”

 

“Moomy says sa—swram—s-ca—”

 

“Scrambled eggs?” Remus barely heard the timidness in the gentle question.

 

“Yeah. Moomy say that easiest to make.”

 

“It is easy. I bet he has a lot of things to do.”

 

“Gosta make cowfee.” Harry pointed to the coffee machine. “I have lots a things to do. I’m a big boy. I dwess myself.”

 

“That’s incredible,” Sirius said, nodding along.

 

“Moomy says when I a bigger boy I can sit here.”

 

Sirius stilled. “He doesn’t usually let you sit on the counter when he cooks?”

 

Harry swung his head from side to side. “Nope,” he popped the p. “I stand on the stool.” He pointed to the kid’s stool in the corner, by the long cabinets.

 

“Uh, let’s get you down then. I’m almost done anyway.” Sirius picked up and set down Harry out of Remus’ view. Harry had squirmed in Sirius’ hold but didn’t look too unhappy to be held by him. Something scraped against the floor and soon Harry’s curls and a sliver of his forehead popped up over the counter. 

 

“Should we wake Re—Moo—uh, should we, um, him soon?”

 

“Moomy says wake him when I wake up but Emmie says wake him up when I hungy. She says he gonna work himself to death and I don’t want Moomy to die. I wanna be a knight when I old. My bestest fwiend Ron plays chess an’ he says that it has a knight but I want to be a weal knight.”

 

Remus slipped back from the doorway and lightly kicked Harry’s toy chest to signal that he was “waking up”. He heard Harry shush loudly. “He awake!” There was a _thunk_ and then the fast patter of footsteps.

 

“Moomy!” Harry threw himself into the room and Remus grabbed him, swinging him around and onto his hip.

 

“Good morning.” Remus covered Harry’s face in kisses. Walking out and down the hallway, he held Harry close and gathered his courage to face this day as Harry rambled.

 

“I made you bwreakfast,” Harry said, pointing to Sirius, who balanced three plates in his arms. 

 

“Morning,” Remus mumbled, fighting the heat rising to his cheeks. This was too weirdly intimate and vulnerable and domestic for Remus’ poor brain to understand this early after waking up coffee-less.

 

Sirius’ eyes traveled up and down Remus— _weird weird weird!—_ a few times before he said, “Good morning. Where should I—where do you guys eat?”

 

Their home didn’t really have an area or room for dining. Generally, they ate at the kitchen counter, on the ground or couch in front of the playroom coffee table, or outside at the small outdoor table Remus bought at a yard sale. “You can set the plates down on the coffee table,” Remus said. “We watch cartoons with breakfast on the weekends.”

 

—

 

Remus and Sirius sat together on the doorstep, feeling oddly similar to yesterday, watching Harry draw with chalk on the driveway. So far, it had been one of the strangest mornings of Remus’ life, almost like he stepped into an alternate dimension.

 

Embarrassment stirred inside his gut for how dramatic and intense he reacted last night. Leaving after hearing terrible news was a more than reasonable way to respond, and yet Remus had to go and flip out over Sirius’ departure, like a self-absorbed brat. Selfishly thinking about himself, viewing it as him being left behind and not like Sirius needed time alone. 

 

He felt grateful that no one had been around to witness how foolishly dramatic he had been last night. He burned with humiliation. 

 

Sometimes Remus had difficulty remembering other people had a certain freedom that he didn’t have. He could never leave like Sirius had—he was stationary with Harry. Any emotional reaction was to be swallowed and dealt with later. Taking time to feel things through immediately was a forgotten and dusty old concept in the back of Remus’ mind.

 

“Thank you for making breakfast,” Remus mumbled. “And watching Harry. I don’t usually sleep in like that. You could have woken me up.”

 

“No,” Sirius said firmly, “you deserve some sleep.” He was barefoot again and his heels had roughened skin blisters. His toes wiggled. “Thank you for letting me sleep here. You didn’t have to.”

 

“I wanted to.” Remus flattened his bed head. He hadn’t changed or brushed his teeth, too anxious to trust Sirius with Harry alone again. “I know yesterday wasn’t…Molly and Em can be coarse.”

 

“I think you mean protective.” Sirius sounded amused. “I don’t mind. I get it. James and Lily would have been unbearably worse if it had been them instead.” The wistful nostalgia faded and Sirius cleared his throat. His voice came out strained and quiet as he asked, “Do you really forgive him?”

 

Mulling over his answer, Remus watched Harry swipe a hand across his cheek, leaving behind a streak of orange. “Yes.”

 

“He killed them.”

 

“He’s Wormy. I didn’t have time to grieve or process. I just missed him too much to be mad.” A gust of hot wind blew by. “And now, so much time has passed that it’s easier to see everything. We failed him when he needed us. A lot of the others don’t forgive him, but,” Remus paused. “I do. He’s Wormy.”

 

Sirius buried his head in his hands. When he resurfaced, he said, “I can’t talk about this.”

 

Remus thought that was best. A topic that could quickly grow heated shouldn’t be started near Harry. Like a lighthouse shining brightly for miles, Sirius’ unhidden joy at being with Remus and Harry, sharing this soft day with them, made itself known in the way his body smiled as much as his face did.

 

But the effects of yesterday were there around the edges, too. An unspoken exhaustion and rawness. Thinking about this delicateness in Sirius, Remus asked, “Do you want to draw with Harry? There’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom between the two bedrooms if you want to brush your teeth and then join us with chalk.”

 

—

 

Remus leaned against the wall by the front door, listening to Harry make sounds as he played inside his room, winding down before bedtime. Sirius stood in front of Remus, his hands in his pockets, shoes on and ready to leave.

 

“Harry’s warmed up to you,” Remus commented. Sirius lingered and Remus didn’t have the energy to snap at him to leave. He thought maybe he didn’t want to keep using energy to snap so much.

 

“Really? You think so?”

 

“Don’t act modest.”

 

Sirius smiled, ducking his head. Strands from his messy bun fell over his face. Looking up through his eyelashes, he said, “Look, Remus. I want to say…” His eyebrows furrowed. “I get it more. I don’t understand how you did it—do it. You dealt with it and raised Harry all alone. I, I think it’s incredible. And I’m amazed.”

 

Remus shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

 

“No, it’s everything. I didn’t mean it when I said it was your fault yesterday. I’m sorry. I don’t know how you keep letting me come back.”

 

“James and Lily would have wanted Harry to have his uncle.” Sirius’ face fell. Remus bit his lip. “I’m not the easiest, either, I guess. I’m pretty prickly with you.”

 

Sirius smiled. “I don’t mind prickly.”

 

The words _do you want to try a bi-weekly meeting?_ danced on Remus’ tongue but today was already too much and it wasn’t the right time. He’d ask Sirius later. Too impulsive for now, too impacted by the gentle high of a good day. 

 

There was a right time for things, Remus believed. Sometimes you just didn’t know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> out of left field comes a fluffy chapter!! 
> 
> FYI Harry woke Sirius up by sticking his light saber in Sirius' face and demanding to know why he was here. Remus would have a fucking heart attack if he knew this is what Harry would do if there was an intruder.
> 
> I haven't said this in awhile but thank you so much for your support and comments and anyone who keeps reading x 1,000,000,000+ : ) : )
> 
> my blog is [here](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/)  
> if you ever have questions or want to chat


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pole dancing, a mishap with texting, and funky robot moves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I'm back! I got distracted by other story ideas but I haven't forgotten this : ) *cough cough* if you were curious what I did I wrote a [fluer x tonks one shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11853825)  
> *cough cough* 
> 
> *Dear God It's Me Margret is a reference to this tween Judy Blume book. It's ridiculous and about a girl wanting to get her period and boobs
> 
> * warning for cringe-y dance moves

_November 18th, 2007 / Eight Years Ago_

 

_Sirius wrapped himself around Remus’ bedpost pole, lifting one leg in the air with poor flexibility._

 

_“Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur,” Sirius sang._

 

_“With the fur!” Peter shouted from the bathroom._

 

_Remus laughed and quickly tried to hide it. “Stop, Sirius,” he said._

 

_“Shawty got low, low, low, low,” Sirius went on, sliding down the pole and grinding ridiculously._

 

_“Oh my god, stop.” Remus fully laughed and chucked a pillow. Sirius did not stop. In fact, Remus’ laughter spurred him into more enthusiasm._

 

_James walked out of the bathroom, a towel slung low around his waist. “Sirius is pole dancing on Remus’ bed,” he commented. “What a surprise.”_

 

_“Shut up, Potter, I’m cheering Moony up.”_

 

_“Moony’s sad?”_

 

_Peter popped his head out the bathroom, toothbrush hanging out his mouth. “Why ‘oony ‘ad?”_

 

_Remus groaned. “I’m not sad! I just want to lie in my bed and be a lump, a perfectly normal teenage wish on a Saturday.”_

 

_“Oh no, no, no, no, Remus. Lump-ing. This just won’t do,” James said, dropping his towel and shoving on the first boxers he found. They were Pete’s and subsequently hanging off James’ hips from the weight difference. It seemed more provoking than if he had been naked. “We can’t be lump-ing when there is up-to-no-good-ing to be done!”_

 

_“And for me to be entertained,” Sirius added._

 

_There was the sound of water, gurgling, and then Peter slid in on his socks. “And we all suffer if Sirius isn’t entertained by Moony.”_

 

_“Very good point, Petey-o.” James did a jaunty salute of appreciation._

 

_“No,” Remus whined. “Go off and get detention yourselves.”_

 

_James jumped up onto Remus’ bed in a frankly spectacular athletic move. “Pete, bring up the music!”_

 

_Remus spread his arms wide and looked to the ceiling. “Dear God, it’s me Margret. I know you are not inclined to sympathize with me but please silence these idiots.”_

 

_But it was too late._

 

_Soon,_ _T-pain serenaded the room and the three boys started defiling Remus’ two bottom bedposts. Peter and James shared one—an experience Remus wasn’t sure how to describe as a viewer. They swung opposite of each other and James, with a burst of confidence, tried to climb above Peter and do tricks from the top, only to slide down and nearly break Peter’s neck._

 

_Actually, it might have been one of the best things Remus had ever witnessed._

 

_Sirius, on the other hand, had his post all to himself and became more daring with his moves, waggling his eyebrows at Remus and doing an over-the-top seductive stare to send Remus into giggle-like laughter. Remus liked Sirius best when he was laughing at the other two idiots, arching his body backward and barking mad laughter like a lunatic._

 

_His hair had finally grown back to a reasonable Sirius-length and it was obvious how much happier Sirius was for it. James’ hair had grown back the fastest after he and Remus buzzed off all their hair in solidarity for Sirius back when he arrived at their town hairless and with only the change in his pocket. That was last year in June. Remus had looked the silliest out of them, he had a strange noticeable dent at the back of his head. Strangely, Sirius had loved it though, always reaching to feel it. Even now, he’d stick his fingers through Remus’ curls until he found it._

 

_James added fluffing his hair into his choreography. None of them had rhythm to the beat, greatly contributed by James, who was confused about which lyric came when and shouted out the wrong lines. In no time, they all dismissed having any clue to what was being said and just belted out whichever lyric they felt inside their heart._

 

_“She turned around and gave the booty a big smack,” Peter said._

 

_James slapped his butt and added a_ hey! _before jumping ahead to Flo Rida. “Work the pole I got the bank roll. Imma say that I prefer them no clothes.” Sirius clapped along, actually somehow finding the beat through all the chaos. He ran a hand down his body at the_ no clothes _part, of course. Peter continued rapping over them obliviously._

 

_Sirius mostly stuck to_ , _“low, low, low,” with the occasional “the whole club looking at her,” followed by a hair flip._

 

_At this point, Remus thought he coughed up a lung from laughing. “Pads there are other lyrics, you know.”_

 

_Sirius ran a hand down the bed post. “Then come show me.”_

 

_“Oh, yeah_ show him _, Moony,” James purred._

 

_“Shut up, Prongs!” Sirius’ face tinted red._

 

_Remus threw the comforter off and gained everyone’s attention, earning catcalls. Feeling particularly euphoric, Remus stood and strutted forward on the bed, jutting his hips out spectacularly. When he got to the bedpost, he shoved Sirius off—_ oooh! _James and Peter yelled—and gave the pole a spin test run. “What you think I'm playing, baby girl,” Remus said as he climbed fully on, “I'm the man. I’ll bend the rubber bands.” He rolled his body a few times against it, committing fully to the dramatics of it so he couldn’t be judged for it as anything other than a joke. He felt Sirius’ gaze especially and focused on pulling the face Lily told him made him look sexy._

 

_He laughed and pulled Sirius back up to share, earning claps from the other two._

 

Single Ladies _burst forth from their janky boom box and Peter sprang forth onto the bed, as this was his specialty._

 

_“Want to study in the library later?” Sirius whispered in Remus’ ear._

 

_It puzzled Remus, ever since that summer last year Sirius had taken to spending more time with him than usual. He even found Remus’ secret library spot, cool and private, and always seemed to know when Remus was hanging out there—a place the other marauders had been desperately trying to discover for six years. And this school year, Remus found himself becoming more and more attached to the time they spent alone, craving it._

 

_“Sure,” he whispered back, shrugging._

 

_“Hey!” James interrupted their little bubble. “No rendezvous-ing! We’re sneaking off campus for Taco Bell and we need more cat nip for Wednesday’s prank.”_

 

 

_May 28th, 2015_

 

Something strange was going on. Remus knew it, he could feel it, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. Mid-week, it hit him while he listened to his students present historical heroes to the class. He dove for his phone as soon as the final bell rang and his students sprinted like mad out the door. _Why is my_ , Remus paused and went back and deleted _my_ , ignoring what his next train of thought had been.

 

[2:26] Remus: Why is Harry ruffling his hair up constantly?

 

He wanted to add multiple question marks but Sirius was several social rings away from entering that part of Remus’ comfort circle.

 

[2:28] Sirius: Why is he always stomping?

 

[2:30] Remus: What do you mean?

 

Remus texted Molly, saying they’d be a few minutes late because Percy wanted to play with Penelope at the playground. Fred and George didn’t mind, running to the soccer field where a girl from their grade, Angelina, kicked a ball. 

 

[2:30] Sirius: Remus he’s a copycat

[2:30] Sirius: The greatest copycat!!

[2:30] Sirius: It’s so cute I swear

 

[2:31] Remus: Stomping?

 

[2:31] Sirius: …Remus, you do realize that’s something you do?

 

[2:31] Remus: No I don’t

 

[2:32] Sirius: When you get mad you do this little stomp thing

[2:33] Sirius: You raise your left leg a little and push it down when you’re arguing in frustration

 

[2:36] Sirius: Before you woke up last week I told him how James would ruffle his hair

[2:36] Sirius: Really, you should be glad he has less James traits :)

 

Remus took a screenshot of the conversation and typed out _I should be glad he has none of ur traits sirius u stupid ass also wtf I don't stomp ???_ with three angry purple devil emojis. He sent it to Em, not paying much attention as he called out to confirm that Fred was okay after receiving a soccer ball to the face. After a responding thumbs up, Remus looked down to see the little _delivered_ confirmation that he accidentally texted Sirius.

 

[2:40] Remus: Oh my god that wasn’t for you

 

Remus switched to Em’s contact, triple checking he was actually texting to her. He sent the original screenshot followed by a screenshot of what he just did.

 

[2:40] Remus: I sent this to him on accident I meant to send it to you!!!!!!!!!!! kill me!!!!!!!!!

 

[2:42] Em: LMAOOOOOOOOO how did that even happen

 

[2:42] Remus: I’m tired!!! Idk!!! You did this to Gid two months ago don’t shame me

[2:42] Remus: Oh my god no he just texted back “haha very true” ?????

 

[2:43] Em: what a sport

[2:43] Em: also you do stomp like a bitch

 

[2:43] Remus: Kill me kill me I want to die I hate ALL of you

 

[2:43] Em: hell welcomes you

 

 

_May 29th, 2015_

 

Rummaging through his drawers, Remus’ hand brushed against something very not sock-like. He felt around and grasped it, pulling it out to reveal an envelope. The back was sealed up and he flipped it around, frowning.

 

_Remus xx_ was written in mostly-familiar handwriting in the middle. He dropped it, quickly pulling his hands away.

 

From his birthday—back in March. 

 

Oh, Remus did not need this right now. His mind rarely forgot something on its own and what a blessing it would be to keep forgetting this. Already, the itch to open it started, prickling at the nape of his neck.

 

“Moomy where is my hat?” 

 

Remus kicked it under the bed.

 

—

 

When they came home in the afternoon, Remus threw the letter in his trashcan.

 

—

 

At night, he threw off the covers and picked the letter out, bringing it to the kitchen trashcan. 

 

—

 

Waking up from a dream, Remus feverishly took the letter out and put it in the outside trashcan.

 

 

_May 30th, 2015_

 

“Well, I hate him and he’s gross and,” Remus shrugged, washing away dinner plates, “so there. As long as Harry likes him and he stays in his lane, then I’m fine with him.”

 

Em barked a loud _HA_. “Stay in his lane?”

 

“Shut up. My students keep saying it.”

 

“Them damn kids these days. What ever happened to ‘mind your own beeswax?’”

 

Ginny took her popsicle out of her mouth to repeat, “Beeswax!”

 

It deterred Em for a good five minutes as she scooped Ginny up and set her on the kitchen counter. They repeated _beeswax_ to each other in increasingly high-pitched voices. Remus smiled as he finished up the last of the dishes, watching Em hold Ginny by the waist and bounce her up and down. Em had kindly joined him in the endeavor of watching all seven Weasley children, plus Harry, so that Molly and Arthur could have a well-deserved night out. 

 

Even when one had all their energy and sanity stocked up, it was not an easy feat to babysit this household.

 

Remus eyed Ron, Harry, and the twins playing in the room next to them. Fred and George were so sweet and gentle with Harry, sometimes more so than with Ron, but they had a tendency to get rowdy. Shushing his nerves, Remus waited for the girls to calm down and reached for Ginny.

 

“Let’s wash your face, Ginny, and then you can play with your brothers.”

 

After all the popsicle residue was wiped away, Em and Remus dragged two dining chairs over to watch the kids play some alien form of tag. 

 

Remus watched the children and Em watched his face. “Is he staying in his lane?”

 

“Relatively. I can’t complain about it.”

 

“Why? He’s the first thing I’ve ever heard you complain about and now you’re already done? Whining is a human thing. You’re not a robot.” Em punctuated her statement by stabbing Remus’ shoulder with her finger.

 

“I know,” he said like he didn’t need to be reminded that. “It’s just that he’s Harry’s uncle and if he doesn’t lower Harry’s emotional baseline, then he has a right to be in Harry’s life.”

 

“All it took was six months for Sirius to break you. Honestly, I thought you’d last longer.”

 

Knocking her with his elbow, Remus grumbled, “Stop. I’m not going to admit that I like him or give into complaining.”

 

“Do you ever feel like you’re too harsh with him?”

 

Following Harry’s movements with his eyes, Remus thought about it. It was a question on an endless loop in his heart, agitated by nightmares of a disappointed Lily and James. “No,” he said slowly. 

 

“Fool me twice, fuck you,” Em declared.

 

“What?”

 

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. All that bullshit. No,” Em said, “fool me a thousand times and you’re still the asshole.” She reached under her chair and pulled out two juice pouches—flavors of which she told everyone they were out of. She handed one to him and raised hers in the air.

 

Accepting the juice, Remus tapped it against hers. “Cheers? A good motto, I suppose.”

 

Em snorted, violently trying to stab her straw through the juice pouch. “It—is. Which is—why—you should use it with Sirius.” She finally managed to push the straw through and sucked in a big sip.

 

“I can’t afford to be a fool,” Remus said, putting his straw in with more ease. He sipped. It was a good flavor, though too sugary. He had lost that childhood taste for extreme sweetness.

 

“The phrase is about the person fooling you, not about you being the fool! You’re impossible.”

 

“No, it’s about shame. Accountability.”

 

“Oh my god,” Em said. She chugged the rest of her juice, using both hands to squeeze the pouch. She took a breath and then turned, grabbing Remus’ shoulders and shaking him. “You are not accountable for things other people did. You are not accountable for things that happen in the future that you might have seen coming.” She released him.

 

“Even if something isn’t someone’s fault technically, they can still feel stupid for believing in a fantasy. The aftermath is my fault—if I don’t put too much into something, then it shouldn’t have the ability to damage.”

 

“You deserve stupid fantasies!” The tireless hours of feeding and keeping seven children alive must have been getting to Em, turning her into this frazzled mess.

 

“Moomy okay?” Harry rushed up to them, breathless, his face red from exertion. His eyes were wide and bright under the fluorescent lights, giddy and happy from all the playing. Bracing his hands on Remus’ knees, Harry pushed up on his tiptoes. “Okay?”

 

Partly spurred by Harry’s warm love and partly to escape Em’s conversation, Remus said, “I’m not Moomy.” Harry backed up as Remus stood. “I—AM—A—RO—BOT.” He jerked his body in choppy movements. 

 

With an exclamation, Harry started copying, mostly shaking his arms and legs like the Hokey Pokey in his excitement. 

 

“Oh, yeah, all the robots in the club are looking at that—”

 

“Apples,” Remus finished Em’s sentence as he continued dancing.

 

“Apples,” Em repeated. She raised her eyebrow and aimed a kick for his butt. “Yes, I just love some good robot apples.”

 

The other kids joined in and Em took out her phone to take pictures and videos. The older brothers were drawn out of their room by the noise and Charlie showed them all up by doing the worm across the floor.

 

 

_May 31st, 2015_

 

Garbage was collected on Monday mornings and on Sunday evening, Remus trudged out with a heavy garbage bag. He struggled to open the trashcan’s lid by himself and in the process, it tipped over, spewing its guts to the concrete. Remus simply heaved a sigh and righted the can, putting in the current bag. He began picking up what had fallen out, eventually coming across the letter.

 

Dusk approached pure night and something small flew by, the light too little to see if it was a bird or bat.

 

Remus would have stared at the letter but he didn’t like Harry being alone inside. Without a decision in mind, he pocketed it and pulled the trash to the curb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what Harry and Remus look like [stomping](http://dulect.tumblr.com/post/164206701066)  
> I'm not sure of other people have head dents?? but I do and they're super fun to feel but I pray I never go bald


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sunshine warms Remus up in more ways than one

_June 2nd, 2015_

 

June’s arrival brought hot gusts of wind and restlessness in Remus’ students. Summer approached on the 16th, two weeks exactly from this lovely sunny Tuesday. Remus’ excitement for having two months off teaching came with a heavy heart for departing from his class. Pride consumed him for each child—even Marcus, who had a knack for getting sent to the office—and unready goodbyes stuck in his throat. He’d miss Percy and witnessing the budding friendship between him and former "blockhead" Oliver.

 

“Okay, everyone. Let’s wrap up and head back to the classroom now. Pencils down—Percy,” Remus said, chuckling, “come on, pencil down, please. When we get back, I want you to share your work with your partner and remember to focus on _descriptive_ details. Say something nice and a suggestion if you have one. Do we all remember our guidelines for constructive criticism?”

 

Some students said a collective yes and others chatted with their friends. Every June, Remus tended to find ways to spend afternoon lessons out on the soccer field in the beautiful summery weather. His students loved it, he loved it, and generally, it worked out well and people paid more attention. However, _returning_ to the classroom went as well as herding cats.

 

“Oliver,” Remus called out. “What does constructive mean?”

 

“Being rude in a nice way!”

 

Before Remus could comment on that interesting interpretation, Alex raised his hand level with his head, timid. Smiling, Remus nodded at him.

 

“Um, well, it’s like, uh. You don’t say ‘I thought your story was boring’. You, uh, say that ‘I liked this part. It’s, uh, you have very nice description words and I like it. But at this part you don’t have lots of details and, uh, I think it would be nice if you, maybe, described more there. That would be cool.’ So, um, you try and be helpful.” Alex’s face was beet red and he sounded breathless. 

 

Remus blinked away tears. Alex refused to speak for three weeks when the school year started and throughout the year he had never, ever raised his hand without being prompted.

 

“Excellent explanation, Alex,” Remus praised. “That was a fantastic example. And a simple way to always remember by Oliver—don’t be rude! We can all benefit from some kindness and help. Ten points each.” Remus clapped once. “Okay! Everyone follow Anna’s lead. Percy, pencil down, please.”

 

—

 

Once Percy and the twins were settled in the car, Remus stepped away to talk to Sirius, who waited patiently to the side. They were testing out meeting bi-weekly, and maybe more, this week. They planned for Sirius to meet Remus here first so Remus could gauge his mood. On Weekdays Harry became more sensitive to being overwhelmed and Remus fiercely guarded him against any negativity. If all was clear, Sirius went and waited at the house while Remus picked up Harry.

 

“Afternoon, Mr. Lupin,” Sirius grinned. _Professor Moony_ echoed in Remus’ head. “I came early and I heard some of your outdoor lesson. I knew you’d be a great teacher.”

 

“I do alright. So, how are you?”

 

Sirius’ face softened at the question. “I’m well, thank you for asking. You?”

 

Running a hand roughly through his hair, Remus shrugged. “Uh, good, I think. Harry was a bit fussy this morning, so just a warning.”

 

Sirius nodded. His eyes strayed to over Remus’ shoulder and he cracked a delighted laugh. Remus turned around. Fred's fingers stretched his mouth wide, tongue sticking out, and George’s nose pressed up against the glass like a pig.

 

Remus crossed his eyes and touched his tongue to his nose. Positive energy radiated from Sirius and his posture relaxed from how he held himself on bad days. With this in mind, Remus gave him a check mark and said, “That’s my cue. Okay. See you in a few.” 

 

—

 

“I ‘rated!” Harry said from his car seat, kicking his legs up in the air. 

 

Remus pulled up to a stop sign and turned around to give Harry a sympathetic look. Harry’s vocabulary took a jump recently and he grew fond of the word irritated, though he couldn’t pronounce it. “I’m sorry, Harry. What can I do?”

 

He faced the wheel again and pressed on the gas, rolling forward.

 

“Moomy and me time! S-we-us hewre but it Moomy and me time.”

 

“I know, love. It’s always our time once I pick you up. But we talked about this last night, remember? You helped me decide when he should come today.”

 

Harry harrumphed. “It Hawrry time.”

 

Remus hid his amusement. “It’s Harry time?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Okay,” Remus pulled into the driveway, “Harry can have some nice time to himself. He can change into play clothes and have a snack, some water. When he’s ready, he can come tell me, how’s that sound? I’ll talk with Sirius in the kitchen.”

 

Harry only replied once he was lifted out of the car. “Okay,” he said, squeezing Remus’ neck.

 

He set Harry onto the ground and immediately pretended to brush dust off his left shoulder twice—a Marauder code meaning: stay back, warning, be low-key. Remus hung behind Harry, letting him be in control of taking off his light-up shoes and hanging up his backpack, allowing him independence in respect for his grumpy mood.  He escorted Harry to his room.

 

Sirius hovered—his socks off and neatly folded next to his shoes again—in the foyer.

 

“Come in,” Remus said at a louder volume than usual, exiting the bedroom, so Harry would know Sirius was here.

 

_He okay?_ Sirius mouthed.

 

_Oh yeah. Needs to wind down._ Socializing wasn’t exactly Harry’s forte and often drained him. Remus walked into the kitchen and started preparing Harry’s requested peanut butter and banana sandwich. Sirius took a seat in a tall chair on the other side of the counter. A strange silence settled between them. Before, they had thick tension, the air between them frigid; now it transitioned into more of an awkward atmosphere, their tension sapping away. Like two strangers at the stage of not knowing what to say to each other.

 

It didn’t bother Remus. Sirius could stress over it and frantically think about what to say if he wished to. But Remus would be right where he was, caring for Harry surrounded by the quiet, a sound he was well acquainted with. 

 

“The weather’s nice.”

 

Remus focused on cutting the banana into even slices. “Yes.”

 

“I think I might get a job at that mechanic place in town.”

 

“That’s nice.” A PTA mother worked there, Gina. Remus could put in a good word for Sirius. Maybe. 

 

Sirius leaned on his elbows. “What’s the point system you do? Is it like good old Hoggy Woggy Hogwarts?”

 

It took a moment for Remus to respond. Once the clock hit 2:25, his brain mentally checked out from teacher mode and into parent mode. “Oh. Uh,” he cut the sandwich into triangles, “no. There’s a certain set of rewards for every milestone of points, like in the winter I’ll bring the electric kettle and we’ll all have hot chocolate. Tiny things, really. They get more excited about getting the points than the reward. I don’t split tables into teams or make any competition. It helps the class morale and I find it works well,” Remus rambled as he filled a Big Boy sippy cup with water. He grabbed the sandwich plate and excused himself to Harry’s room.

 

Remus brushed his knuckles on the open door to announce his presence. Mindful of Harry’s irritable mood, he set the food and drink down next to Harry without speaking. Harry put together wooden train tracks and Remus nudged the water toward him, giving him a kiss on his curls.

 

“Shout if you need me, love,” he reminded as he left. 

 

Making a valiant effort to reroute his brain away from frantic Harry worries, Remus sat down on the playroom couch with Sirius.

 

“I have a confession to make,” Sirius said, his ankles crossed and angled toward Remus. 

 

The world sharpened all at once. “If you’re leaving the country, I want you to know I have the means necessary to skin you with Play Doh tools, bury you in Utah, and get away with it.”

 

Sirius opened and closed his mouth three times. “I don’t know where to begin with my questions.” He laughed. “But no. I’m not leaving. Ever. Ever,” he repeated. Remus picked out a crayon between cushions, trying to distract himself from the phantom feeling of dancing, a hand low on the small of his back. “My confession is that I have no idea what Harry’s saying eighty percent of the time.”

 

“What?”

 

Sirius’ face pinched together in panic. “He talks so fast and quiet and his lisp!”

 

_Sh,_ Remus mouthed. People made similar remarks but never near Harry and he’d like to keep it that way. _And it’s rhotacism, not a lisp. It’s R he can’t pronounce, not S. Sometimes L, too, I guess._

 

_My textbook said kids pronounce things better by four but I don’t understand any of it!_ Sirius balled his hands.  _What if he can tell?_

 

A little defensively, Remus straightened up. _Every child grows at different rates. Harry’s a little late in some areas._

 

_No, no, I’m sorry._ Sirius tucked his hair behind his ears. _I just don’t know what to do._

 

_You’re fine. Just guess as best as you can and make vague answers. Kids don’t pay attention much. You’ll figure it out soon enough._

 

_Will I?_ Sirius clasped his hands.

 

_Yes. Now, calm down._

 

Oddly enough, Sirius did calm down, sinking back into the cushions.

 

—

 

They flooded Harry’s turtle sandbox in the backyard with the hose and Harry sat inside it making mudpies. Since Sirius joined them, Harry wore his batman underwear instead of being naked. Sirius sat next to the box, his hip pressed closely against it, and played with Harry. He built sloppy castles and Harry ran them over with his firetruck every time Sirius finished, ceaselessly entertained by it. Each time, Sirius gasped and slapped a hand over his heart, egging Harry into hysterical laughter.

 

Remus watched, amused, from the outdoor table, sipping lemonade in the shade. His fear that Sirius and the constant socializing of daycare being too much for Harry in one day fell away. Harry went from silent to chatting Sirius’ ear off in the span of minutes. Remus bit back laughter when Sirius’ expression screwed up in terror when Harry paused abruptly for an expected response. Sirius fooled people with charming smiles and fabricated lies throughout school but a toddler simply stumped him.

 

Eventually, Remus found mercy in his heart and came over, sitting opposite of Sirius and behind Harry. He translated for Sirius, mouthing word-for-word what Harry said.

 

_You’re a godsend_ , Sirius mouthed when Harry wasn’t looking.

 

Remus rolled his eyes. _You’re a butthead._

 

Sirius laughed out loud and Harry looked up, confused. Remus stuck his finger in the wet sand and then bopped Harry’s nose, wiping the sand onto him. “Hello, silly boy.”

 

“I’m not siwwy _you’wre_ siwwy!” Harry held Remus’ face with his dirty hands, smearing the mud.

 

“Oh I am, am I?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Oh dang,” Remus sighed. “And all this time I never knew! I’m so embarrassed.”

 

Harry patted Remus’ cheeks. “It okay, Moomy. Now you knowed it. You’wre welcome.” He released Remus from his hold and went back to chatting away, forgetting Sirius’ laughter.

 

Remus looked back to Sirius, silently translating again. With the sun in his eyes, Remus sensed more than saw the immensely dorky smile projecting from Sirius. 

 

It kinda made Remus want to punch him.

 

But the Vitamin C from the sun hummed in Remus’ body, he had a cold glass of lemonade, and translating helped distract his brain from its distressing loops of obsession. Punch urges were okay on a day like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus is such a proud Dad for his students
> 
> Summer is coming!! LOTS of good things planned.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius joking with Harry, Sirius joking with Remus, Remus being confused and oblivious

_June 6th, 2015_

 

“I’m twenty-sewven,” Harry stated.

 

“Twenty-seven? No way.” Sirius shook his head. “You’re joking.”

 

“Am not! I am. I weally old. I a knight and I died and I we-wenat-we-we—”

 

“Reincarnated,” Remus offered, rescuing Harry from his flushing and increasing frustration.

 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded his head solemnly, “and now I wittle again but I old.”

 

“Wow. That’s even older than _me._ ” 

 

Harry ate up Sirius’ awe and chirped, “Yep!”

 

“Do you have any advice, oh wise one?”

 

Harry didn’t need to think about it for a second. “Nevewr hawve a goldfish.”

 

Remus bit his lip, ignoring the pain of it, because they have never had a goldfish. He didn’t even know if Harry has seen one before. God, he loved this child so much. Shame swung in his heart, he should appreciate Harry so much more than he does. 

 

“Phew! I almost bought one,” Sirius said, clutching a hand over his heart. “Thank god you told me.”

 

“Youw’re welcome,” Harry said, reaching out to touch Sirius, patting his hand. Sirius’ breath catching in his throat was audible.

 

Saturday rolled by and the staple Sirius Play Date came with it. Remus sat more in the background, analyzing Harry, searching for any fuss over seeing Sirius a second time in one week.Nothing showed, besides Harry's basic frustration, ordinary toddler life. Sirius bounced off his mood fairly well, though sometimes he acted as if Harry was younger, almost like he wished Harry was more babyish, and Harry quickly corrected him in who was the boss in playing games. For the nth time, Harry was a Big Boy.  _Capital Big,_ Harry had insisted the past week. 

 

Remus slept terribly last night and having a moment to not play with a hyper-energized child was a blessing, even if Sirius had to be the one relieving him of his duties. He continued to shoot Remus looks for approval when he didn’t understand what Harry said, but more often, he kept glancing at Remus with concern. If Sirius didn’t stop soon, he better be prepared for a firm snapping from Remus. He had no need for _pity_ or _worry_ or _fretting_ from Sirius. Not at all. Perfectly fine on his own, thank you very much. A bad night's sleep and exhausted appearance was the least of his worries, so Sirius can shove his mother-henning—

 

“Moomy, Moomy, Moomy!” Harry shouted and Remus startled, emerging from his looping thoughts into the past—a stupid past that also had no right to be in Remus’ mind.

 

“Sorry, Harry,” Remus said. “What’s going on?”

 

Huffing, Harry pulled himself up onto the couch and bounced over—scaring Remus with images of him falling and splitting his head open. He climbed into Remus lap, lacing his arms around Remus’ neck, and gave him the big puppy eyes look, green eyes sparkling, jutting his lower lip out ridiculously. 

 

Leaning down, Remus pressed his forehead to Harry’s, waited a moment, and then blew a raspberry. With squealed delight, Harry wiped the spit off his face and Remus pulled back. 

 

“What do you want, silly boy?” 

 

Harry ruffled his hair and Remus stretched his neck up, raising his head over Harry's black curls so that he could narrow his eyes at Sirius for telling Harry about his dad’s dorky quirk. “Um,” Harry began, “I want bwrownies.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

“Yes, please.”

 

With a laugh, Remus bounced Harry once in his lap and then set him on the ground. “Of course, love. Fudgy or not Fudgy?”

 

“Fudgy bwrownies! Fudgy bwrownies!”

 

Remus sighed to himself. More and more, he caught onto the little things Harry copied ever since Sirius mentioned the stomp—which Remus did  _not_ do. This chanting habit most certainly belonged to one Miss Emmeline Vance. Harry ran into his room as he continued to chant and a small knot tightened around Remus’ heart. _He’s okay. Harry’s safe. Absolutely fine. They were in the house, the latch on his bedroom window was locked, the front and back doors had two locks locked. Safe._

 

“Remus,” Sirius gently said. 

 

Embarrassed and annoyed with the soft tone meant for Harry only, Remus unfroze from where he had watched Harry run off. He walked into the kitchen and began opening cabinets for the brownie mix box—Remus had no time nor energy for home-baked goods. Molly also liked to inform him to cook and bake as little on his own without her, anyway.

 

“You’re really in your head today,” Sirius commented, leaning on the other side of the kitchen counter. Why did he do that? Why couldn’t he just sit in one of the tall chairs? _Irritating._

 

“Excellent observation, Sherlock,” Remus muttered under his breath. Sirius must have heard because he laughed. Such a loud laugh. These things weren’t even that funny and yet he took such joy from them. _Why?_

 

Remus measured, poured, cracked an egg, and mixed the brown, gooey mix. Sirius’ gaze started to make him feel anxious and stressed—always staring at Remus, always, always, always, watching, observing, _analyzing—what is he looking for why is he doing this why can’t he stop_. When Remus couldn’t stand it any longer, he glanced up and caught Sirius staring intently at his arms. The temperature outside was a sweaty and hot one when they had drawn with chalk earlier and Remus’ oncoming glare slipped away as he checked to see if he had armpit stains. All clear—his poorly chosen, for this weather, black button-up actually turned out to be a plus, nothing stained visibly. His circulation started to cut off, however, from how tight the sleeves were from rolling them up so high. _So that’s what the tingling numbness was._

 

Looking back up from his exposed arms, he asked, “What?”

 

Sirius’ head snapped up and away. “Nothing.”

 

Remus pressed further. “What?”

 

“Uh,” Sirius dragged the syllable out and then paused for a long moment. “It’s, uh, just you have…arm muscles.”

 

Remus stirred the mix. From when he last he remembered, or cared, people described him as wiry and his body hadn’t changed much since he and Sirius last saw each other five and a half years ago. At least, Remus thought so. Harry was _heavy_ , though. Remus remembered those early months of taking care of him. People who never took care of children could never understand how sore your arms became from constantly holding a baby, even a small infant. And now, Harry was a growing nearly-five-year-old child, even if he was at the low end of his age range for height and weight. Remus shouldn’t hold him as often as he did, but it was a hard habit to quit.

 

Remus made a _meh_ noise. “So?”

 

“Nothing,” Sirius rushed to say. “I don’t know.”

 

“Okay,” Remus said slowly, confused, focusing on the task at hand and blocking everything out except Harry. Something was being made in Harry’s bedroom, Remus heard him moving and putting something together or collecting something.

 

As if hearing Remus’ thoughts, Harry shouted, “DON’T COME IN, IT A SUWRPWRISE!”

 

“Got it, love,” Remus called back.

 

“Surprise, right?” Sirius asked softly.

 

Remus made a confirming sound. Sirius was making leeway in immersing into Harry Language. 

 

As Remus poured the batter into a pan, Sirius said, “He’s a good kid.”

 

“Well,” Remus heaved a big breath and planted on a smile, “he’s James and Lily’s son. What else would you expect?” He turned his back as he opened the oven, pushing the pan in even though it wasn’t fully pre-heated, focusing on the heat wave that breathed dragon-like into his face, like a warm hello or warning to stay back. His mind repeated _James and Lily James and Lily James and Lily James and Lily._ It hit him how that spoken sentence had sounded and he tripped over himself, quickly amending, “And he’s just really the best—he’s, Harry is…Harry. No matter whose kid he is, he’s one of the best.”

 

“Ever consider letting me babysit sometime?”

 

The quick laugh drawn out from Remus was louder than he meant and he glanced at Sirius apologetically, but Sirius’ smirk was a mischievous one Remus had seen a thousand times before. More than a thousand. It was frustrating because he couldn’t get angry at Sirius for making him laugh because Sirius did it through self-deprecating ways and Remus couldn’t get mad at Sirius for being so self-deprecating because Remus wasn’t supposed to—because he _didn’t_ care. 

 

It was unnerving how Sirius never appeared wounded. Sirius from the past would have pouted and snapped for being undermined or laughed at in any way, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

 

“I’ll take that as a maybe,” Sirius said.

 

“You’ll take that as a _no_.”

 

Sirius raised his hands up in mercy, but while Remus cleaned up he heard a softly, teasingly, spoken _maybe._

 

“I can still chase you out of the house with knives, you know?”

 

And then there was a laugh Remus had heard a thousand times before—almost. A laugh a thousand times the same, and different, too, for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay r.i.p. i've accidently been working on this wolfstar long oneshot and i feel like i'm cheating on all you readers, shame on me
> 
> this took so long to finally finish and it's short I know, but it's setting up for more good stuff to come and chapter thirty is gonna be a GOOD one so that's something to look forward to
> 
> my life is a Mess right now and obviously, my production of this is slowing down but don't worry I'm always thinking about it, I just end up working on future scenes on accident...so thank you for sticking with me !
> 
> (also is it just me? or is starting to hold babies an exhausting thing?? you hold them for so long and constantly like my arms would ache so much but maybe im a weakling rip)
> 
> in the meantime, if you're wanting more you can always pop me a question on tumblr and I'll probably be more than happy to answer or write a small scene from this universe unless it gives away too much info, or I'm happy to give headcanons too about the past or what Sirius is up to [siriuslysarcasticremus](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/)  
> thank you for reading!! I appreciate you all so much whether you comment or not!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em's in trouble and Remus has a hard choice on what to do with Harry; flashback of an important anniversary leading to an important friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating again already! Inspiration! Praise the Writing Gods! \ (•◡•) /  
> \---  
> *lol this fic was supposed to be more Molly & Remus, but we'll get back to that more 
> 
> *these chaps might seem a little unclicked but it will tie together soon I promise everything is kinda a slow burn loose string that slowly comes together like puzzle pieces. This was supposed to be next chapter but since chapter 30 drops a bomb I thought there should be a fluff chap in between 
> 
> * Em says "Sturgy" in chap 19, referencing Sturgis Podmore, a member of the OG Order of the Pheonix and fought in both wars like Em so I have him as a helper and one of Remus' Trusted™ babysitters

_June 14th, 2015_

 

Remus mashed potatoes next to Harry, who had his own small bowl of peeled baked potatoes and his own small masher tool, singing along to the ABC’s. Harry confused the whole order and all the letters but he loved the tune to it. Singing weaved its way into their lives since Harry grew up. One of the turning points, the brief moments of sweet relief, after _The Accident_ was Harry’s personality forming. Only one year old, so incredibly tiny, and yet he had such sassy behaviors developing and an enjoyment in music. _That_ was what struck a chord in Remus; like infant Harry knew his mother’s love for singing. Sometimes, it helped remind Remus of the nights James had dragged them to Lily’s school concerts and all the ruckus Remus, Sirius, and Peter had pulled without interrupting the show, but making fun of James' awe.

 

Remus and Harry rocked it out as fiercely as Lily used to, knocking into each other, swaying their bodies with spectacular silliness and yelling out random letters to the tune Remus’ phone played on loop.

 

By the time Remus realized the song had changed to _It’s Friday, Friday, got get down on Friday—_ the most infuriating song he could think of (to get his attention in case the call was for an emergency)—Molly’s call had ended. Harry kept on mashing emphatically and spitting out gibberish, no doubt having ignored Remus’ apologies at having to pause their duet. “It will be just a second, Harry.”

 

“R, R, Y, H, M, O!”

 

He stepped a few feet away as he called Molly back, curious to why she hadn’t texted him instead. With Harry beside him, his worry level sunk down knowing no news she had could be about Harry’s safety. However, a spike of fear raised at the thought of Ron, the kids, or Arthur being hurt.

 

“Remus,” Molly snapped as soon as she picked up, not at him but at the situation. Remus straightened up in alert, tempted to bring his hand up to his forehead in an obedient salute for a commanding officer. “I’m worried and I know she doesn’t want me to but you know I’m not good with—”

 

“Hey, hey, slow down, Molly, everything’s alright. What’s going on? Who doesn’t want you to?”

 

Harry had decided his potatoes were mashed enough and Remus watched with defeated disdain as Harry grabbed the lactose-free milk carton with his little fingers and poured way too much into his bowl.

 

Molly said, “See, you’re so much more calming than I am, you’re like one of those cuttlefish things Artie is always going on about, changing to the person’s needs, and I’m rigid you know, we love each other, Emmeline and I—”

 

“Em,” Remus interjected. “What about her? What’s going on? Is she okay?”

 

“I don’t know! She’s called _me_ for god’s sakes, hysterical, the poor thing, and blubbering. I don’t know where she is but she has no one to turn to—”

 

“What about me?” Remus’ heart stung selfishly. “She has me.”

 

“It’s nighttime with Harry,” Molly responded, more sarcastic than he ever knew she could be. 

 

“I can drop him off at yours.”

 

“At my house full of sick, vomiting children?” After Remus’ silence, she went on, “She’s going to hate me for calling you and Jesus Christmas, I can’t believe I’m saying this, I hate myself for it, but,” she took a sharp breath and exhaled, her voice high-pitched as she asked, “can you have…Sirius come over and watch Harry?”

 

First, Remus said nothing because it was the first time she hadn’t referred to him as _Black._ Then, the audacity of asking. His breath quickened at the mere suggestion, images flooding his mind. “I’ve never prepped him before, Molly, he doesn’t know—he’s never babysat and, and, _Molly._ ”

 

“It’s Emmeline.”

 

“Fuck.” Harry’s head snapped over at the soft curse. Remus half-smiled at him in the hopes it would erase the toddler's memory. “Okay, okay.” The clock read six thirty. He hated being unfair to babysitters. “I’ll try and call Autumn and Sturgis first.”

 

The impossible day had come where Molly disapproved of not using Sirius as a first priority. “Be fast.” She hung up.

 

_Address. I’m coming, don’t worry, love,_ Remus texts Em first.

 

“Harry, baby, come here,” he said, lifting him out of the chair despite protesting squirms. “Why don’t you watch something on Netflix.” He looked at the soupy white mess in Harry’s mixing bowl. “You want a pear cup?”

 

—  


 

Sturgis didn’t pick up and Remus didn’t bother with a voicemail. Autumn, so sweet, apologized profusely but she attended her grandparents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration.

 

Sirius came through the door windswept, dumbfounded, and unsettled as fuck. Remus’ head reverted back to teenage years, his mind filling in swear words in every internal sentence. Harry had giggled and whispered _fuck_ to himself three times during _Mulan_ ’s opening scene. 

 

“You’re not kidding?”

 

Remus ignored the question and seized Sirius by his AC/DC shirt’s collar, yanking him until they were face-to-face. Sirius gulped. “If he has so much as a scratch on him when I return, I will fucking kill you. _Kill you._ Capeesh? Sirius!”

 

Sirius looked dazed, not scared. “Capeesh.”

 

Remus released him. “Good. Now pay attention. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’m not spending the night away but you should plan to, you’re not driving home in the dark this late at night. I have everything written out and on the counter and a copy of it on the fridge with the Mickey magnet. Counter and fridge, okay? There’s a binder on my bed with any information you’d ever need and an index and table of contents and post-it tabs color-coded so you can easily find whatever situation advice you’re looking for. You have my number—”

 

“By heart and your home phone, too. Molly’s and Em’s.”

 

Remus stopped walking.

 

Raising an eyebrow, Sirius calmly said, “What? I talk to them during Play Dates, too, you know.”

 

Remus hadn’t known. There’d only been two Play Dates with Molly and her kids, plus one day where Sirius came to pick up Harry with Remus. Em must have ambushed him. _Em._

 

Going through everything three times, knowing Harry would want Sirius’ full attention upon seeing him, Remus kept Sirius in the hallway before the playroom and kitchen area. Harry already had his meltdown about Remus leaving and also didn't need the reminder of seeing Remus departing again.

 

“Remus,” Sirius gently interrupted. “You should go. I’ve got this, okay? I’ve babysat Nymphie for Andy lately. Yes,” Sirius talked over Remus’ instant protests, “I know Harry’s much younger, but I listened and you have everything planned out and written down in case of trouble, which I swear on my life won’t happen. I’ll call you first thing no matter what.” He used the Harry Soft Voice and Remus hated it a little less, for once.

 

“You got this,” Remus said slowly.

 

“I do,” Sirius affirmed, smiling.

 

“Asshole,” Remus muttered and Sirius laughed.

 

—

 

Rolling down the car window, Remus called, “Hey, babe. Know where I can go to have a good time?”

 

Em cried, though Remus knew it was a hiccup-giggle. He parked the car horrendously at the curb and jumped out of his seat, yanking her in for a hard hug. “Oh, Emmeline,” he murmured as she cried into his neck. The drippy feeling on his skin made him want to shove her away but he shoved that instinct deep down. “ _Find My Friends_ is horribly inaccurate. Or you’ve been zigzagging through backyards.” Em shook her head. “Why have you been walking? It’s not safe.”

 

She pulled back, her laughter coming across more clear now. “It’s still light out. It’s summer, Rem, only you’d think it’s unsafe.” Her face crumpled. “I couldn’t just wait outside and I have to move, I _have_ to.” Her short satin creme dress ruffled in the warm wind. Her hair had grown inches since she chopped it back at the beginning of the year, pulled back in a tight ponytail, and he had the feeling she'd scissor it tonight.

 

“Well, may I _have_ to move with you?" He kept his words light and breezy, fitting into the summery evening. "Or is a car moving to your apartment an alright option?”

 

Em’s shoulders slumped, released from their previously tense position high up by her ears. She wiped the dripping eyeliner from her eyes. “Both?”

 

“Sure, love. Anything.” Throwing an arm around Em, Remus led them down the street, heading them toward a park he knew. A warm coffee shop was on the same route, a possible option for cheer-up peppermint hot chocolate. “So, it appears I’ve reached level one hundred of the best friend game and a secret unknown side mission has popped up. I’m a little frightened. Do you know any cheat codes or tips for what it is?”

 

Em swallowed audibly a few times, her breath hitching before she got out, “F-falling for a straight girl?”

 

“Ah. An oldie but a goodie.”

 

Em slipped her arm around his waist and squeezed, an uncomfortable way to walk together, but Remus minded not at all. 

 

“We can make a playlist,” he added. “I think I still have the one you made me,” he groaned dramatically. “So awful.”

 

“Hey! You had gone three or four _years_ without anyone making you a weird-ish-break-up CD mix, the worst crime to be committed.”

 

They zig-zagged their steps in sync. “You’re really one of a kind, Em.”

 

“Shut your stupid ass face.”

 

 

_November 3rd, 2012_

 

_“May I kiss you?”_

 

_Emmeline, Molly’s new Daycare Helper, squawked. “What?”_

 

_“Oh,” Remus said quite plainly. “Are you inebriated? Because I won’t kiss anyone even slightly tipsy.”_

 

_“Christ,” Emmeline swore. “Even in this state, you’re so Lupin-y. No, I am not drunk,_ Mousy-Mr.Lupin-who-apprantely-isn’t-so-mousy _. Are you telling me you’re not drunk?”_

 

_“Fuck no. I haven’t touched—I won’t—never, after—”_

 

_“Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s alright dude. I’m sorry I asked. It’s just with the,” she gestured to all of him, “yeah.”_

 

_He staggered and leaned against a brick wall. Probably a dirty brick wall. Just like him. Dirty. Blood dripped down his nose from the reckless fight he had thrown himself into at the bar. Had sought out. The only night he could spend away without freaking out about Harry. “Fuck him.” A swear word! Hadn’t said that in a while. Can’t say that to a one-year-old. Two-year-old, as of recent months. Remus had meant to say it quietly._

 

_“Oh. Didn’t peg you as gay.”_

 

_“M’not. Bi.”_

 

_“Right on. I’m whatever-the-fuck. As long as they’re not any of the -ists.”_

 

_“Ists?”_

 

_“Sexist, racist, trans—oh, I guess that’s phobic. Well, whatever-the-fuck as long as no -ists or -phobics.”_

 

_“What about Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobics?”_

 

_“What nows?”_

 

_“People who discriminate against long words.”_

 

_Emmeline’s laughter was rough and deep and long. Remus liked it._

 

_“I like you,” she said._

 

_“I like you, too. May I kiss you?”_

 

_“FUCK HIM!”_

 

_Remus pushed himself off the wall at her screeching shout and almost toppled over with vertigo. “What the hell?”_

 

_“You said fuck him, remember? We got gay side-tracked.”_

 

_“Oh, yeah. Fuck him,” Remus spat, righteous fury returning._

 

_“Fuck him!”_

 

_“Fuck him!_

 

_Someone down the street yelled, “FUCK OFF!”_

 

_They both laughed._

 

_“May I kiss you?”_

 

_“Very desperate, aren’t you? He must have really fucked you up.” Em clucked her tongue ironically, like Mols’ ser—genuine one. “So I’ve unlocked the tragic past, eh? Here,” she slipped her arm under his armpit, “come back to my place. I’ll clean you up. You’ll tell me your story.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his swollen ones. “There. Nothing more than that, I assure you, I’m not taking advantage of your emotional state. You’ll be so embarrassed in the morning, oh my god, I can’t wait.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Em and Remus click together well and sweetly but they are brotherly and sisterly more than anything, a sort of James & Sirius relationship
> 
> *Molly adopts everyone she loves as her children and sees Em very much as her daughter and loves her fiercely, however they clash a lot in terms of comfort and nothing she can do will help Em, but she loves her so much she's willing to call Remus and knows Em needs Remus more than anything
> 
> *if you are curious about Sirius' life outside of what we see I answered an ask on it on tumblr[here](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/post/165453876132/i-accidentally-deleted-an-ask-about-btk-asking)  
> and you can keep sending me asks if you please
> 
> *mix CD is important and comes back later, I considered leaving the spotify playlist now butttt I'm gonna leave it for when that chapter comes (in which one of the pettiest fights occurs from the looks of it)
> 
> *don't know if the flashback anniversary is obvious but Remus unleashes it all on these days and gets /reckless/. on days like these, he seeks out some sort of sexual intimacy to feel close to another body, a reminder to him that he's real even if he doesn't get off on it. He and Em start off on a relationship soon after this with dates that quickly ended like she said back in chap 15. After, they still had casual sex occasionally but haven't since Sirius came back (unless I change my mind ; ) )
> 
> *Harry and Sirius have a wild night together but Em and Remus show up around 2/3 a.m. to both of them curled up on Remus' bed asleep


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's infatuated and Sirius is eager to please--in other words, Remus thought summer was supposed to bring less stress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! I had such a dry spell for this chapter. I know RS games is going on and is fantastic so if you're still reading this update thank you!! and also go check those stories out!
> 
> here's a little [tumblr post](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/post/165568322757/hi-im-obsessed-with-between-the-knuckles-i)  
> I did on Sirius babysitting in case you missed it

_June 16th, 2015_

 

“What are you doing here?” Remus asked Sirius. He placed his hands on his hips in an exceptionally Molly-like pose. He hadn’t seen Sirius since the emergency babysitting call two days ago. Remus and Em had come home to find Harry and Sirius dead asleep, both drooling and curled toward each other on Remus’ bed. When Remus woke up in the morning, Harry slept beside him on the blow-up mattress and Sirius was gone.

 

“I thought maybe you’d need help cleaning up the classroom,” Sirius said, shoving his hands into his pockets, slouching against the doorframe. “Isn’t that a teacher thing?”

 

Remus nodded and turned to his desk, taking the various papers and cards his students left him into his hands and smoothing them out. He slid them easily into a pocket of his satchel and subtly swiped at his eyes, collecting the wetness there. “I don’t have to do it today,” he said. After a moment, he added, “Just because you fell asleep in my bed, doesn’t mean you have clearance to comfort me at whim.”

 

Apparently, this dry comment stood as an invitation to enter, because Sirius stepped in and walked over to Oliver’s desk, well _previously_ Oliver’s desk. He sat on it, crossing his ankles. “ _On_ your bed,” Sirius clarified. “I wasn’t under the covers.”

 

Remus gave him an unimpressed look, both for the comment and for Sirius being here in the first place. He reiterated the ignored statement, “I don’t need comfort.”

 

“I’m not here to.”

 

Remus’ frown deepened. He dropped his gaze and packed up the pictures of Harry on his desk. Opening his desk’s top drawer, he carefully placed the one framing Lily, James, and Peter into the front side pocket, doing so out of Sirius’ view.

 

“Do you cry for every student or only your favorites?”

 

Remus barely held back a snort. “Shut up.”

 

“We always knew you’d be a great teacher but man, I swear, a fight almost broke out between that quiet kid and bulky man-child over who got to goodbye-hug you longest.”

 

A small laugh-cry escaped Remus’ lips and he shook his head, pulling the satchel strap over his body and reaching for his small cardboard box of immediate things to bring home. Sirius jumped forward, grabbing the box first.

 

“Here, let me hold it,” he insisted, stepping away and out of Remus’ reach from across the desk.

 

“You can’t just barge in here and—and carry my things,” Remus said, the beginnings of something hot swirling in him. This was his emotional time, between the goodbyes to his class and picking up Harry. Percy and the twins spent at least thirty minutes signing yearbooks and Remus spent that time in his room or in the car nice and alone. “This isn’t a Harry day. You have to schedule these things.” Speaking of Harry, Remus reached his hand into his pocket, checking his phone for any texts or calls—all clear. _Safe._

 

“I know,” Sirius said evenly. “I didn’t come to see Harry.”

 

“That’s worse.”

 

Sirius laughed. “Shouldn’t we try and get along for Harry’s sake?”

 

“Not really.” Remus amended, “We get along fine. Harry doesn’t pick up on anything.”

 

“That’s worse,” Sirius repeated.

 

Heaving a sigh, Remus resigned himself to his chair, sitting down. “Why?”

 

“You hide things too well.” Sirius hefted the box in his hands, leaning it against his hip. 

 

_Good,_ Remus thought to the box _, be heavy._ He didn’t even want to start dissecting Sirius’ statement nor even this interaction. _Can’t I just cry about my student family in peace? And the reminder that Harry’s growing up fast?_ Another part of him wanted to say, _why do you think I learned to hide things so well?_

 

Summer melted his bitterness while also rebirthing it from the ashes. _So many memories._ Remus loved the summer months, even loved the heartache of remembered summers with his friends. But now, Sirius brought up the summer memories starring him. Confusing and hard and _the past needed to stay where it belonged._

 

Which meant Remus was fine. And that he shouldn’t snap at Sirius. His attitude in the _present_ was neutral. No loose-strings, tragic backstory. 

 

“Why do you have to make things so difficult?” Remus asked out loud.

 

Sirius laughed, squeezing the box closer to himself. “It’s my job to, isn’t it?”

 

“Well, if you’re here, then you get to round up the twins for me.”

 

_June 17th, 2015_

 

“Summewr! Summewr, summewr, summewr,” Harry grunted out the last _summer_ as he wiggled his way onto Remus’ chest, waking him up, a sunny smile on his face. Blinking, Remus stared at Harry’s teeth—they were just so _little—_ blown away and overwhelmed with how much he loved this little boy, how special and real he was. 

 

The day turned out wonderful and beautiful and stinky breath and no Sirius today, even though it was a Wednesday.

 

The first day of summer was a Harry and Remus tradition of making popsicles of every random flavor and running through the sprinklers in their boxers and making tart lemonade and lying in bed, watching Princess and the Frog.

 

It was a day filled with random things and the first that slowly kneaded the knot of stress that Remus was from worrying over Harry. Today represented the two months he’d be able to watch over Harry properly and have fun, his racing thoughts relaxing some.

 

A day without Sirius, and happily so.

 

 

_June 20th, 2015_

 

“You want Sirius to stop by again?” Remus asked, trying to keep his voice void of skepticism.

 

Harry chewed with his mouth open, pancake mush on display, attempting to talk around the food. Leaning forward, Remus wiped away the syrup on Harry’s face. “What?” He asked.

 

Harry swallowed. “Yeah! Si-we-us! I wanna show ‘im my liz-awrd dwrawing and pancake pop-sile.”

 

Harry loved when they cracked out the popsicle mold, determined to put any liquid in it. Remus liked the apple juice ones best—the least creative of all. He was a weak man, he admitted to it, and put up no fight when Harry wanted to put pancake mix into the freezer mold. Remus wouldn’t let Harry try it, however, hoping to distract him from remembering it. 

 

Though Remus had no craving for more Sirius time, he liked the possibility of Sirius being the one to eat the pancake popsicle.

 

On the other hand, they just saw Sirius less than forty-eight hours ago. Remus’ mind refused to wrap around the idea of what was going on. Ever since the babysitting sleepover, Harry talked nonstop about Sirius—a _great_ pleasure for Remus. Fabulous. The best. Yippee.Not like his mind raced with Sirius memories already in sheer panic. No big deal that this only further agitated his thoughts to a louder volume with everything Harry jabbered about.

 

But it was normal—Remus _knew_ this, he knew children had these infatuation stages. Harry had done the same thing with Em, became obsessed with her and clung onto her all through daycare—a big reason for why Remus dated Em. But Harry gradually fell into a more calm love overtime. Kids did this sort of thing. But—this was Sirius.

 

_Sirius._

 

Remus wasn’t ready for this. He constantly feared Sirius leaving Harry behind, breaking the toddler’s heart. Sitting in the kitchen as Harry patiently awaited a response, Remus’ stomach sank down to an extent he hadn’t realized could happen these days. Now the opposite happened, the idea of Sirius sticking around scaring the crap out of him. 

 

The space between this rock and a hard place became smaller and smaller, flattening Remus out.

 

He’d also need to shovel talk Sirius for the one-thousandth time, being even more firm on how Sirius can’t leave, not with how infatuated Harry currently was.

 

“Yeah,” Remus wiped syrup off Harry’s nose, “sure, love, I’ll text him in a second.”

 

“Yay!”

 

But Harry was safe. He was safe and happy and had another loving person in his life. That was all that mattered. Remus could do this. 

 

 

_June 21st, 2015_

 

“I can’t do this,” Remus whispered to himself, “I can’t do this.” He rested his forehead against the toilet bowl, half-contemplating texting Molly. Or Em. But he didn’t like burdening people when he knew he could get through this alone. There was no need for fuss.

 

 

_June 24th, 2015_

 

 

“Moomy’s sick,” Harry declared when Sirius arrived at their park. 

 

“I’m not sick,” Remus said before Sirius could get a word in. He smiled down at Harry, swinging their held hands. “Just had a bad morning. But I’m all better, okay?”

 

Harry pressed on his tiptoes and kissed Remus’ stomach. “Tummy sad.”

 

“Do you have the flu?” Sirius asked, pulling his backpack forth and searching through it.

 

“No. I’m perfectly fine.”

 

“He threw up,” Harry said solemnly, patting Remus’ stomach. A strange déjà vu sense came over him, this dynamic so very similar to James mother-henning and Past Sirius babying Remus during their school years.

 

“I’m fine,” Remus forced a light laugh as he booped Harry’s nose. “Come on, you want to go on the slides first?”

 

As Harry raced ahead, Sirius thrust something into Remus’ face. “What the—Sirius, stop it!”

 

“I just want to take your temperature. Hold still!”

 

“You’re being ridiculous! Why do you have a thermometer in your backpack?” Remus dodged Sirius’ forced movements to get the stick into his mouth. 

 

“If you’re not sick, then prove it!”

 

“Sirius!”

 

“Remus, you look like you could keel over, just let me—”

 

“I’m not sick,” Remus said, coming to a halt, smacking Sirius’ hand away. “It was a nightmare, okay? I threw up from a bad dream. There.” Remus crossed his arms, pointedly watching Harry wait patiently as another kid slid down before him. Gruffly, he added, “Now you know.”

 

The silence stretched far too long and yet not long enough. Sirius had the audacity to ask, “What was it about?”

 

_You._

 

“Nothing important. I don’t remember.”

 

 

_June 30th, 2015_

 

Remus opened the front door and held it, keeping his arms across the threshold to keep Sirius standing there. Remus squinted at him, his face neutral, letting the seconds tick by. Sirius grinned sheepishly at Remus, probably thankful it had been three nights since he had the idiotic bravery to text Remus at three a.m. In Remus’ mind, anything to do with that incident was thought in loud caps lock. 

 

Not only had it woken Remus up from one of his few nights of restful sleep, it woke Harry up, too. A simple, soft _ping_ and Harry flew wide awake into Remus’ room, highly determined to not go back to sleep and adamant on watching Cars Two instead. 

 

The super fun part, though, was it occurred on the early morning of a Friday, coincidently a day where Remus worked at the Public Library. Remus couldn't recall the texts he had sent Sirius that night but he had been delirious and perhaps a touch vengeful. But it was only because he _knew_ in that moment how the day would unravel and every prediction came true—he was deadbeat throughout his whole shift at the library, his mind going in circles over awful things, and Harry transformed into Oscar the Grouch with so little sleep, eventually and thankfully passing out on the children room’s couch.

 

But then that long nap made it difficult for Remus to wind Harry down for bedtime that night, resulting in him being officially tucked in two hours later than usual.

 

Continuing to give Sirius a tough look, Remus drew it out at least thirty more uncomfortable seconds before stepping aside and allowing Sirius to enter. With that dissatisfaction dealt with, Remus closed the door.

 

“How come you do different locks?”

 

Remus shot Sirius, who bent down to peel his socks off, a confused look.

 

“You only do three of the locks in the afternoons and six at night,” Sirius explained, standing up.

 

Glancing at the locks Remus locked—top, middle, and bottom—he squirmed internally. “It’s safer in the afternoon than it is at night. Well, I’m here and awake and always with Harry so it’s safer. Nighttime is more vulnerable, when I’m,” Remus abruptly stopped, catching himself from rambling about things Sirius didn’t need to know. Why was he asking about the locks? Who cared? _Leave me alone._

 

With a nonchalant shrug, Sirius said, “Makes sense.”

 

“Yeah. Um, so. Anyway, Harry’s finishing up lunch and then we’ll see what he wants to do? Are you okay with just playing by ear? I like to let him have days to choose what he wants, I mean I still give him structure, like swimming lessons at YMCA with the Weasleys and,” Remus stopped again, trailing off.

 

“I’m cool with whatever,” Sirius said, using the damn Harry Voice.

 

Inside his mind, Remus flipped off that voice. “Well,” Remus huffed, “Come on then, what are you standing there for?”

 

 

_July 1st, 2015_

 

“Vewy impowrtant,” Harry said.

 

“Very important,” Remus echoed, nodding his head with utmost seriousness. 

 

A tornado appeared to have passed through Harry’s room, clothes strewn everywhere. Today’s agenda was another library shift and heading over to the Weasley’s afterward. Sirius planned to meet up with them there, to either play or sit back and watch Ron and Harry. Molly wanted to observe him more before she allowed any of her kids around Sirius without her supervision.

 

Harry’s streak for Sirius-love barreled through with incredible strength and today he fretted over his outfit, wanting to impress Sirius.

 

“How about your Captain America costume?”

 

“Too hot,” Harry said.

 

“Too hot,” Remus repeated, nodding his head. He flipped the page of his notebook, tapping his pencil against it, sighing as he worked on budgeting their summer. Sirius kept dropping not-so-subtle hints about lending money—not even lending money, but _giving it completely_ with no expectation to pay him back. 

 

No, nope, no sir, not in Remus’ book. No charity money. Remus handled raising Harry perfectly fine on his own, _he_ has been the one raising Harry for nearly four years now.

 

“This and this,” Harry proclaimed and Remus hummed on auto-pilot before snapping his head up, guilty for not paying attention. 

 

Harry held up his Little Bill t-shirt, which Remus customized last Christmas. An H replaced the B on the classic yellow shirt with greenish and purple sleeves. Molly teased Remus every time she saw it, accusing him of stealing her trademark knitted sweaters with the gift receiver’s initial on it. 

 

In his other hand, he held up Ginny’s old knee-high leggings covered in a soccer ball pattern.

 

“Oh,” Remus cooed. Harry perked up, appreciative that Remus recognized and approved his sense of style. “You’re going to be the coolest kid in town.”

 

“Coolest cat,” Harry corrected.

 

_“I’m the cool cat out of you bunch”, a devilish wink, “more like the shaggy stray dog who is Moony’s bit—”_

 

“Yeah,” Remus swallows, “yeah, definitely. How about I, uh, I get your dragon sunglasses while you get dressed?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

-

 

Remus groaned out loud and his new co-worker, a teen stacking books, glanced over, amused and blushing. Remus smiled apologetically, mouthing _tired_. She nodded, looking bewildered. Sometimes Remus forgot people weren’t as tuned into reading lips as he and the marau—as he and Sirius were.

 

Remus watched from around the corner as Sirius crept into the children’s section. Harry squealed, putting his hands up and waving. “Don’t look, don’t look!” He rushed to the small table and picked up his sunglasses, pushing them on. “Okie, now!”

 

Sirius crouched down, his face slack. “Woah. You are just the coolest cat of the coolest cats that ever lived _ever._ ”

 

Harry twirled his body from side to side, showing off his outfit in a small dance of satisfaction. “I twry,” he said.

 

Sirius sucked on his lower lip in an obvious effort to not laugh but Remus couldn’t help it, he chuckled lowly. So barely audible and yet Sirius’ body tensed in alert and his head whipped around to find Remus immediately—just like a dog godammit—and Remus turned, hurrying over to the front desk. He slid into the swivel chair, skidding it over to the far end where he could view Harry and Sirius without them seeing him.

 

-

 

“So, you just happened to be here right at eleven o’clock then.” Remus glanced at Sirius dryly, waving with a plastered smile to a past student’s father.

 

Grinning, Sirius leaned against the desk on his elbow. “Yep.”

 

“I thought you worked.”

 

“I do.”

 

“You’re hanging out with us for six hours today—which was supposed to be three or less, by the way. And I just heard Harry invite you to hang out tomorrow.” Remus ran a frustrated hand through his curls, shaking them up. He needed a haircut soon. “When do you ever work?”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Seems like you are.”

 

“The only thing I’m worried about is how ever will I chose which machete to cut off your genitalia?”

 

“First off, who uses the word _genitalia_? And second off, I think that’s my cue to leave and I totally won’t be calling the police tonight for that threat.” Sirius straightened, snapping and pointing finger guns at Remus.

 

_I hate you._ “I hate you,” Remus said, checking to make sure the Head Librarian wasn’t near. 

 

“Thanks!” Sirius called over his shoulder.

 

 

_July 2nd, 2015_

 

“There you are! You’re not in your usual perch.” Molly huffed, a cross between a motherly smile and exasperated scowl on her face. She pushed the short strands of strawberry hair out of her face, her forehead sweaty and cheeks pleasantly red from the sun. 

 

“I don’t have a perch,” Remus said, pressing an unopened orange soda can to his mouth, enjoying the the cold relief.

 

“Sure, sweetie.” 

 

Remus side-eyed her heavily and she laughed, drawing out a smile and half-chuckle from him. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to how he leaned against the house wall, partly shaded by a big, dying potted plant. Usually, he dragged his butt up onto the garden shed roof and sat in the shadows, chatting with Molly through the kitchen window as he slyly watched over the kids.

 

“Good view of Harry,” Molly commented. Remus said nothing. He wanted to be closer to Harry in case of emergency today. “How are you doing?”

 

“Fine.” Remus dragged the cold can across his lips.

 

“You know what I mean. With Black.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Honey.” Molly placed her hand on his forearm.

 

Remus held his composure for a minute and then, sighing, leaned down to her short form, slouching against her. For a moment, he became distracted, wondering for the nth time why she never startled, how nothing surprised her. It always surprised him how he opened up to her.

 

“It’s like everywhere I turn, he’s there. Harry’s been obsessed with him since the whole—you know, sleepover, babysitting, whatever. Which is good. I guess. Better than having Harry be hurt or something having gone wrong while I was with Em.”

 

“I still think you can always kick him out.”

 

Remus chuckled, straightening back up. “I can’t do that to Harry. It’s selfish, anyway.”

 

Molly watched Sirius pretend to be demolished by George’s punches. “I don’t like him.”

 

Humming, Remus nodded. Ginny exited the house and into the vast Weasley backyard, pouting. Remus knew sometimes the boys would snip her out of games or pranks. “Hey Gin,” Remus called. “Can you give this to Sirius?”

 

Remus waited curiously as the soda can passed onto Sirius, who scrunched his face up before smiling. Remus wanted to see if Sirius lost his touch, hoping that he had.

 

The kids erupted in laughter as orange soda sprayed out all over Sirius, in his face and shirt—even reaching his pants. Ginny grinned back at Remus, delighted to have been in on the prank.

 

And Remus—he hunched over, clutching his stomach with hysterical giggles. He didn’t know where it came from, why he found it so funny, but the more he tried to stop laughing, the harder he did. The pure shock on Sirius’ face replayed in his head over and over. Remus had spent a good minute shaking the can up.

 

Finally coming to a gradual stop with Molly patting his back, Remus wiped his eyes and came back to lean against the wall. Without Remus’ permission, Remus’ eyes sought out Sirius, who gazed at him with a crooked grin.

 

 

_July 3rd, 2015_

 

[6:29] Sirius: Hey how upset would Harry be if I canceled tomorrow?

 

[7:03] Remus: What

[7:03] Remus: Sirius I swear to god if you start pulling out on Harry I’m going to 

[7:03] Remus: You can’t just start canceling out of the blue

[7:03] Remus: What do you mean

 

[7:04] Sirius: Woah! Woah Remus no, no stop I’m not abandoning you two.

 

[7:11] Remus: Why are you canceling?

 

[7:11] Sirius: I promise it would just be this one time. I can still come. I’m asking how upset Harry would be? I’m sorry it’s upsetting you.

 

[7:11] Remus: Don’t

 

[7:34] Remus: I’m not upset. Harry will be okay.

 

[7:35] Sirius: I can completely, totally still come if you think that’s better.

 

[7:36] Remus: I mean obviously canceling last minute isn’t better but it’s fine if you have an appointment or whatever

 

[7:40] Remus: Sirius just spit it out I’ve been watching the dot dot dot of you typing forever it’s making me anxious

 

[7:40] Sirius: Shit I didn’t mean to worry you. Fuck. I’m still getting used to this whole phone thing. 

 

[7:42] Sirius: I think…I think taking a week off would be good. I love seeing Harry this much, fuck, so so much. But it seems like you’re really stressed out and I don’t want to do that. Maybe a week off would be good for all of us.

 

[7:42] Remus: I’m not stressed.

[7:42] Remus: I don’t need you to worry about me.

[7:42] Remus: Just come tomorrow.

 

[7:45] Sirius: I’ll see you next Friday, Remus. Please text me updates that Harry’s doing okay? I’m ready at a moments notice. Oh, and the movie theater nearby is still playing Inside Out if you wanted to take Harry to that, the reviews look good. Good night. Sleep well : )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO do not worry, this may seem like steps backward at the end but it really is a step forward and I'll leave it at that and I hope you all enjoy chap 30 when it comes out! : ) 
> 
> ((also cough if you are bored you can always check out my [WIP au on dimension travelers wolfstar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164727/chapters/27608952/)  
> ... cough))
> 
> also I've been wanting to attach [this](http://firedrill.tumblr.com/post/163895777986/thomasbaguette-leobitch-love-the)  
> forever but this basically encompasses Remus' life


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pool day! sirius learns remus hasn't been lying exactly, but there may have been a few omissions here and there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ this chapter [?_(ツ)_¿](https://twitter.com/3padi19/status/804970767117127680)  
> I AM BACK
> 
> a....lot has happened in my life that i'm still adjusting to but I do deeply love this story, it's just going to be a slower process than I originally planned. I think it took me so long to finish and post this chapter bc i was so excited about it and I'm feeling pretty lackluster.
> 
> thank you for all your supportive comments!! I have been so bad about responding to them for the last chapter or two and I will get to them, though you probably have forgotten it : )

** _October 31st, 2011_ **

 

_“Have you seen Peter?”_

 

_“Oh, yeah, he’s with Mary.”_

 

_“You sure?”_

 

_“Yeah, they went downstairs.”_

 

_“Okay. Well. If you see him will you tell him I said I’ll see him tomorrow and don’t worry about the car?”_

 

_“Sure, Remus, anything. Have a good night! Give Harry a cuddle.”_

 

_Remus re-traced his steps three times—out the front door, back inside, out the front door and almost to the car, back inside, out the front door only three steps, back inside—making sure Peter’s car keys were safe with the designated key holder._

 

_All was well._

 

_When he stepped past the threshold one final time, Remus took a moment to look up at the sky with a deep, shuddering breath. This Halloween was better than last. Maybe next year will be even easier. Filled with a sudden fierceness, he swore that he would have good Halloweens again, that the radius of pain around November would lessen and lessen until the day itself would only hurt, no longer bleeding backward into October and forward into December._

 

_A car horn blared at the front of the driveway._

 

_“You gonna stand there looking pretty all night or are you going to get in the car?”_

 

_Laughing, Remus raised his middle finger and jogged to the car. “You’re a load of shit, did I ever tell you that?”_

 

 

_July 10th, 2015_

 

“T-tickles!”

 

“Almost done, love,” Remus said. He couldn’t resist digging his fingers into Harry’s ribs again as he spread in the sun lotion. Harry squirmed away, giggling, before hurrying forward again to be tickled.

 

At last, Remus finished and, feeling in an especially good mood today, he lifted Harry by the armpits, throwing him up in the air before catching him easily. It was a move that he took long to master—mainly he never had a low enough anxiety level to attempt—and was only done on the best of days. As he set Harry back down, he ignored the embarrassingly proud look exchanged between Molly and Em.

 

Harry jumped from foot to foot, cheeks flushed. “We go now?” For emphasis, he tugged on Remus’ hand. “Swim?”

 

“Let’s get the swimsuit on first, shall we?”

 

Em snorted, watching with an affectionate but judgmental gleam to her eye as Remus helped Harry into the Cars floaty swimsuit. It was a one-piece zip-up with a life vest sewn into the top part. “All that sunscreen only to then cover him all up?”

 

“Oh, hush,” Molly chided. She paused to shout at Bill and Charlie for running. “Being proactive is great parenting.”

 

Remus blew a raspberry fart noise in response, not quite meaning to, earning a bark of laughter from Em and a huff from Molly. Sometimes he spent so much time with Harry that he forgot how to socialize with people his age. He was like a toy with a drawstring you pulled for three catchphrases as an automated response to everything—a fart noise,  _okie dokie,_  and a vague, affirming  _hm._ Spending a week with abundant Harry time amplified this. Not that Remus was complaining.

 

Like Sirius had texted, it had been a lovely silent Sirius-free seven days. Not even  _thank you_  texts for when Remus sent the nightly  _Harry O.K._  message.

 

Now this was what Remus remembered summers to be. Lost in jumbled words and hardly coherent sentences. Carefree, playing with Harry, allowing his mind to fall into distressing thoughts that were quiet and well-worn, and sharing any and all summer memories that came to mind. More than anything, Harry enjoyed that last part—the adventures of Moony, Wormtail, Lily, and Prongs. They had a tradition of nightly bedtime stores of Lily and James, but in the summers, the memories came more freely.

 

Today, this little vacation ended. Remus had invited Sirius to the community pool with Em and the Weasleys. He had yet to show up, however, which sparked a little hope in Remus’ chest. But he was prepared all the same for whenever Sirius would eventually turn up. He felt loose-limbed and loose-minded, re-centered, and stronger against the emotional war Sirius ignited every time he came close.

 

“Black alert,” Molly said.

 

“Code Exes and Ohs,” Em said seconds after.

 

Unfortunately, both warnings flew right over Remus’ head. His entire world simply revolved around the little toddler stamping his foot and demanding, “Swim,  _now_?”

 

“Okay, okay,” Remus laughed, a ball of warmth settling inside his chest. Reaching his arm over his shoulder, he grabbed the back of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his head. Harry shifted impatiently and began tugging on the drawstrings of Remus’ swim trunks. A sharp gasp sounded close by and Remus noted it in the back of his mind as he shook out his curls.

 

“Moomy, Moomy, come  _on_.”

 

At the same time, a different voice whined at Remus in an entirely different tone. “ _Remus._ ”

 

Well, there went the hope for a no-show. Squaring his shoulders, Remus braced himself for whatever drama Sirius was about to stir up. He should have figured that a gasp so scandalous would only come from Sirius. Remus raised his eyebrows at Sirius, wondering how in the hell he got into the locked gate of the pool. He stood half-way between the lounge chairs the Weasleys clustered together and the entrance. His mouth parted open and his eyes widened in apparent horror, prompting Remus to look over his shoulder in confusion. When nothing jumped out at him, he gave Sirius a mildly judgmental  _what?_  face.

 

Sirius’ mouth opened and closed, his attention drifting down to Remus’ torso, eyebrows drawn together painfully close. Remus couldn’t help but look down at himself—was his body that repulsive to Sirius?

 

“Your scars,” Molly said, covering it in a polite cough.

 

_Oh._

 

Remus had forgotten about those.

 

“Harry, why don’t you come in the water with me and Gin?” Arthur asked kindly. Remus smiled gratefully at him and gave Harry a small push. Harry went with a show of petulance, but there was no denying he leapt at the chance to finally join in on the splashing fun.

 

Sirius snapped out of his daze, coming to Remus with a fast purpose, and Remus, with jitterbugs flipping in his throat, moved to meet him. God, how many of these conversations were he and Sirius going to have? A lifetime’s worth, at least, it seemed. Molly’s hand reached out and squeezed Remus’ knee in an awkward but comforting gesture when he passed by.

 

Placing a tight grip on Sirius’ arm, Remus dragged him into a shaded corner. He positioned his body to hide them from Em and Molly’s view, sighing and steeling himself for this talk he had hoped to never have. Or at least put off for longer. It wasn’t  _quite_  his fault, really. At the time, he thought Sirius would be gone within days and what did it matter if Remus told a white lie or lie by omission? After everything, he felt he deserved to keep this to himself unless he deemed it worthy to divulge the information.

 

“Who did this to you?” Sirius spoke fast and seething. His hands clenched into fists and raised up to his stomach, prepared to fight an invisible enemy.

 

Remus sucked in a breath. “No one.”

 

“Remus, tell me,  _now._ ” Strange. It had been months since this forcefulness came from Sirius. Remus had almost forgotten what it was like. “Whoever it is,” the shift from anger to desperation came, “it doesn’t matter.”

 

Remus leaned against the iron gate surrounding the area, acting a causal calmness he didn’t feel. Shutting his eyes, he focused on the here and now. “No one. Sirius, please.”

 

“Is that why you’re like this?” Offended, Remus opened his eyes. Sirius gestured to all of Remus, no longer talking about his physical form. “Why you’re so—so,” Sirius trailed off as he eyed Remus’ torso. His eyes hardened with rage. “How could someone—what kind of—to  _you,_  you’re so, so—

 

“Sirius,” Remus said, quiet but firm. This was all getting a little too dramatic for him. “No one did this to me.”

 

Sirius’ expression fell. He made a movement, his fingers uncurling and reaching forward before falling down. “Did—did you do this to yourself?”

 

Rubbing his face, drawing his fingers back and forth across his forehead, Remus swallowed. “No.” Quietly, he admitted, “I was in the car.”

 

“What?”

 

“I was in the car with them.” Loud shrieks surrounded the pool area. Even now, Remus’ ear trained for Harry’s voice, analyzing what the pitch of his screams meant emotionally. He glanced over quickly, a smugness swelling in him at how effective the swimsuit was at keeping Harry safely afloat. Looking back to Sirius, Remus explained, “That night.”

 

Sirius went deathly still. “What do you mean?”

 

“Sirius,” Remus said, gentler than he meant to be. “You know.”

 

The micro expressions that flew through Sirius’ face intimidated Remus with their intensity and ferocity. Sirius’ body lurched forward before he caught himself, aborting the move to hug Remus—hug was a generous word. It seemed more like Sirius was ready to jump Remus, to cling and mold himself to Remus’ body. Remus flinched.

 

Several seconds pass, stretching far too long.

 

“I almost lost you, too?”

 

Remus had heard Sirius desperate, heard him enraged, and vengeful, then apologetic, kind, sometimes too-kind, sweet, soft, laughing, and nearly the whole variety of human emotions. But this—this he hadn’t heard since their school years. Since Mr. and Mrs. Potter’s funeral. (More accurately, since that night on the roof, but Remus was allowed blissful ignorance in his own mind, and firm denial).

 

But this question turned Sirius…child-like. Small and defenseless.

 

Remus resisted submitting to some kind of physical comfort. His bones, with years of experience at soothing Sirius, yelled at him. But his mind was stronger, yelling right back with a loud  _no._

 

“I’m okay,” Remus said instead, gently. With more conviction, he added, “We’re—me and Harry, Harry and I, are okay.”

 

Another silence stretched and Sirius clutched onto one of the poles of the gate, using it as support. He swallowed visibly before asking, “It’s not a birthmark?” The tightness in Sirius’ voice stung. At least he hadn’t outright called Remus on his lie from months ago when explaining Harry’s lighting-like scar.

 

“No.” Remus went on, “Glass.” Harry scrapped by with barely any damage, protected by his car seat. Remus’ run-in with shattered glass had been a  _little_  nastier. Only his torso was victim to it, everything else protected by an extravagant armored costume. Minutes before everything happened, he had taken off the chest piece.

 

_“This costume is so hot—” “Mm,_ yeah, _it is!” “Lils, your husband is flirting with me again.” “I mean, he’s not wrong.” A wink. “I’ll turn the AC on, though.” “No, no, I’ll just take the top piece off. Don’t want Harry to get cold.”_

 

Hesitantly, Remus reached out and squeezed Sirius’ wrist before quickly retreating. “We’re alright.” He waved to the pool, where Harry splashed around with Ginny, who floated in a little inflatable baby seat. “We’re great.”

 

“You’re not—you were—it’s,” Sirius cut himself off and wiped his eyes, not hiding their wetness. Finding the striking differences in the now-Sirius versus the past-Sirius was easier than letting memories of that Halloween wash over Remus. Remus distracted himself by imagining the young boy with wild hair and glittering eyes who acted immune to vulnerability, who hated crying.

 

They stood in a sort of amiable silence together, reminiscent of the car drive home from the zoo on James’ birthday. Remus wouldn’t admit to it being comforting but, in a way, it almost was. He was only used to confessing the story to people who never knew him before—Molly and Em cried, thinking of how much pain it caused Remus. But Sirius understood the full weight it would have been if Remus met Lily, James, and Peter’s fate. Em and Molly just never would have met him, but Sirius—Sirius would have  _lost_  Remus.

 

Remus hated  _I’m sorry_ s and pity and sympathy. But Sirius—he wasn’t tearing up because he felt bad for Remus. It was like he was…relieved. Overwhelmed and thankful that Remus and Harry had made it out.

 

It made Remus’ skin crawl to always be aware of the thoughts and emotions going on in Sirius’ head, but for once, it was nice.

 

As Sirius processed the news, his eyes fell down to Remus’ torso again, at the strange patches of cuts from where Remus had taken bits of his costume off. Sirius’ face bloomed even redder.

 

“Calm down,” Remus said, chuckling a bit to find a light thread. “Your face is burning.”

 

If anything, Sirius’ face brightened. “It’s a sunburn.”

 

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Sirius. You’ve been in the sun for a total of seven seconds, at most. Don’t pretend you’re not notorious for your anger blush.” Remus was more than prepared for an onslaught of anger—at Remus for lying to him or for the reality of the situation. Maybe at himself, for not being able to protect Remus and Harry.

 

“It’s not anger,” Sirius said, his eyes dropping down again and lingering on Remus’ body before snapping back up.

 

Okay, maybe Remus wasn’t as adept in knowing Sirius as he had thought. “Okay?” He said, tugging on a curl. Discomfort crept into their pleasant moment. “Well, I better go check on Harry. You’ll be okay?”

 

Sirius ducked his head, nodding. “Yeah. Just need a moment.”

 

Remus jogged back over to Em and Molly, sitting at the end of Em’s lounge chair. She plopped her feet into his lap. “So?” She asked.

 

Remus scratched the back of his neck. “It was fine. I don’t know.”

 

She opened her mouth but Molly swatted at her with a magazine. Remus watched Harry doggy paddle around George. He gathered several moments to sort his wit back into place. Oddly, the remembrance of that horrible night wasn’t throwing him off as it usually did.

 

“Maybe I should put my shirt back on. It’s making him weird.”

 

“What do you mean?” Molly asked.

 

“He kept looking at my chest.” Remus shrugged, smiling faintly when Arthur took Harry’s hands and spun him in a circle through the water.

 

Molly narrowed her eyes and Em made an amused grunt. “So that’s why he’s a tomato?”

 

Sirius’ face had died down to faint pink as he waded into the water. It caught Harry’s attention, the small boy furiously wiggle-swimming over and hugging his uncle with more excitement than Remus expected. Sirius, who was usually so hesitant, had no qualms about clinging back just as eagerly. “It’s a strange thing,” Remus said absentmindedly, glancing back to Em. “His blush. It’s only when he’s angry. But he said it wasn’t because he’s angry. Isn’t that weird? Or annoying, I guess, if he’s trying to ‘protect’ me or something by lying.” Remus scowled at the thought, he hated being babied.

 

“Oh my god,” Em said in exasperation and Molly swatted her again. Em looked at Remus like  _she_  wanted to smack  _him._ Molly turned her gaze to Sirius, her expression even more scornful. Remus got the impression he was missing something.

 

“Oh-kay,” he drawled, giving them both a  _you’re-weird_ eyeful. “I’m going for a swim. Have fun with your piña coladas.”

 

“We will,” Molly chirped. It was a fifty-fifty chance over whether they felt comfortable drinking around him, though he insisted on how he didn’t mind, truly.

 

“Keep your shirt off!” Em piped in, winking.

 

Remus rolled his eyes and got up. As soon as he stepped into the water, cold and disturbingly warm in a certain patch, Harry stopped his splashing fight with Sirius and swam over. He clambered onto Remus’ back and demanded, “go, dolphin, go!” Remus laughed and obeyed the demand. Having the skin-on-skin contact with Harry’s wet arms soothed Remus in a way he hadn’t known he needed.

 

_“That’s right, Harry, it’s me, it’s Moomy, I got you, we’re okay. We’re going to be okay. It’s—it’s going to just be like_ ‘Moomy and me time’.  _We’ll have lots of fun. We’ve got each other’s backs, now, huh?”_

 

Sirius watched them from the side, looking as if nothing in the world could tear his gaze away from the two of them. It made Remus’ skin itch but Sirius was reacting to this bomb much better than the Peter news, so he couldn’t find it in himself to mind too much.

 

“Harry,” Remus whispered.

 

Harry tugged on Remus’ curls in response.

 

“I heard from a reliable source that there might be an impostor among us.”

 

“Impostowr?”

 

Remus hummed solemnly.

 

“Like a shawrk?” Harry asked excitedly.

 

“It appears so,” Remus said, nudging his elbow in Sirius’ direction. “What are the orders, sergeant?”

 

“Shouldewrs!”

 

Remus hesitated a beat but—he was in a good mood. He was still having a good day. He had a good week. “Alright. All board.” He bent his knees, sinking into the water so Harry could climb up. “Alright, hold my hands.” His heart wobbled along with Harry’s unsteady legs standing up on Remus’ shoulders. “One…two…three—attack!”

 

“Attack!” Harry cried as he let go of Remus’ hands and launched himself at Sirius.

 

—  


 

“I’m not tiwred,” Harry insisted. His nails dig into Remus’ neck as if to make a point, though Remus was perfectly aware of his disapproval.

 

Remus did his third catchphrase—the noncommittal  _hm—_ adjusting his grip so he could hold Harry securely with one arm. He used his other to gather their stuff up. Harry had stripped out of his swimsuit, only in a pair of bright green underwear now, and hadn’t given Remus a moment to put a shirt back on before he demanded to be cuddled.

 

“Here,” Sirius mumbled, awkwardly holding forth Remus’ shirt.

 

“Oh. Thanks.” Remus smiled and ignored Sirius shamelessly staring at his torso again.

 

Harry, even minutes from falling asleep, read Remus way too well and felt the change in his tensing muscles.

 

“We the same,” Harry said, lifting his head from Remus’ shoulder.

 

“What?” Sirius asked.

 

“Moomy an’ me.” Harry let out a loud yawn. He tapped his lightning scar and then Remus’ chest. “Same,” he said again and rested his head back down, adding, “yeah.”

 

Sirius and Remus both blinked at each other in surprise. Sirius looked somewhat ashamed to be caught staring so obviously that a four-year-old even picked up on it, and heartbroken. Remus’ heart had jumped to his throat. It was something he had said similarly to Harry before, whenever the little boy got self-conscious, but never had he had the tables turned onto him.

 

Fuck, Remus was  _not_  going to cry in front of Sirius.

 

“Mr. Hippo,” Harry added, slurring his words with sleep. Remus chuckled.

 

“The scars around Remmy’s nip look like a hippo. See the nip is the nose,” Em came over to explain, ever so helpful, even reaching out to touch Remus’ skin. She never called him Remmy.

 

“Please,” Remus begged, “never talk openly about my nipples in public ever again.”

 

Em shrugged and winked at Sirius, who Remus studiously refused to glance at. Luckily, Molly required his attention seconds later.

 

When all the goodbyes were said and done, Harry safely strapped and snoring in his car seat, Sirius and Remus were left standing together in the parking lot.

 

“So,” Remus said.

 

“So,” Sirius echoed.

 

They stared at each other. Sirius had changed back into dry clothes, hiding the body that had gone softer since they last saw each other. Em still wiggled her eyebrows at the sight. She seemed to get great fun from poking Sirius, much to Sirius’ apparent chagrin.

 

“You can sleep over, if you want,” Remus found himself saying. “You know, like, uh, like last time. On the couch.”

 

Sirius nibbled his lip, considering the offer for too long. In the end, he shook and ducked his head. “Nah,” he said softly. “I think I need some alone time for this. But, uh, maybe—maybe I could come over early? For breakfast?”

 

“Sure. Anytime after eight.”

 

“Well. I guess I’ll go, then. Thanks for inviting me, Remus. I had a lot of fun.”

 

Remus nodded and watched Sirius’ retreating figure. He had a sudden, bright flashing image of when Sirius brought him sunflowers and his gut stirred with the same feeling from then. “Sirius?”

 

Sirius spun on his heel, giving Remus a bemused look. Remus had a hysterical moment where he wanted to laugh at the expression. “Yeah?”

 

Remus sucked in a deep breath and then took a few large strides and then he—

 

He hugged Sirius for the first time in five and a half years.

 

He started to pull back immediately but Sirius clung on tightly, smelling like chlorine and, strangely, a little like mint.

 

It was foreign and familiar all at once; both distressing and relieving in the unfamiliarity and familiarity.

 

Remus would have preferred if this was a silent exchange but Sirius whispered, “I wish I had been there.”

 

Softly, Remus surprised himself by admitting, “Me too.”

 

“I’m here now.”

 

Remus didn’t respond, deciding instead to pull away. He left Sirius with a simple  _drive safe_  and returned to the car that held his precious Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....surprise?
> 
> me as i started writing this beast of a story: damn remus' life is so sad. imagine him getting the call from the hospital  
> brain: well but actually  
> me: HOE DON'T DO IT  
> brain: he was in the car with them  
> me:  
> brain: harry, too  
> me: OH MY GOD
> 
> \---
> 
> i am feeling v chatty in these notes today!! I guess this wasn't a huge reveal since it was unexpected and also I got in a mood where I didn't want to make this too sad. But fear not those who love angst, there will be a full flashback and full details of that night in the future (ouch). Harry talking about his and Remus' scars was actually one of the first things I wrote which is pretty funny bc since then I've seen a few posts and gorgeous art go around about how cute that headcanon would be and fjhbvnkerv I can't agree more.
> 
> as always, my tumblr is here [siriuslysarcasticremus](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/)  
> and you can always message me or shoot me ask for requests on what's going on on Sirius' side since I feel bad about the slow updates


End file.
